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There are a lot of people around here, mostly Steelers fans, who are not happy that the New England Patriots are in the Super Bowl again.
But someone who would have been thrilled is my mother, the biggest -- and I say this with love -- most annoying Patriots fan I ever met.
Since her passing in May 2018 from cancer, there isn't a day that goes by that something doesn't make me think of her, especially during football season.
She loved Notre Dame football and the Patriots. The Notre Dame thing never bothered me, but the Patriots -- and with me being a Dolphins fan -- did.
During the season, she had her pick of Patriot jerseys to wear, either her Tom Brady, Rob Gronkowski or Brian Cox jersey.
Brian Cox? He only played one season for them. I bet Mrs. Cox didn't even have a Brian Cox Pats jersey, but my mom did.
She had her Patriots scarf, her Patriots glass and these two little Patriot coffee cups that she kept on the window sill above her sink.
She had her telephone, too.
Whenever the Patriots would beat the Dolphins, which they did quite often, she would call and ask me if I knew who won the game, knowing full well I was either watching or listening to the game.
When they won a playoff game, she would call. When they won their Super Bowls, of course, she would call.
She wasn't a bandwagon fan, either, liking them way back when Raymond Berry was their coach in the 1980s.
When they beat the Falcons in the 2017 Super Bowl, she watched the game at my house, along with my family, including her grandson Vincent, a diehard Falcons fan.
When Atlanta blew a 28-3 lead and lost the game in overtime, he was visibly crushed. When it ended, she simply got up, walked over to him, and like any loving, caring, sympathetic grandmother would do, looked at him and said, "You should have rooted for the good team, Vincent."
Then she went home.
When the Patriots lost to the Giants twice in the big game, my kids wanted to call her and rub it in. I told them to be careful, because she might hold that against them at birthday time and Christmas time.
Last year, when she was fighting a losing cause, I went to visit her on Super Bowl Sunday -- when the Patriots were playing the Philadelphia Eagles.
The male nurse, a friend of mine, was trying to get her comfortable in her chair, where she would later watch the game.
She had her No. 12 Brady jersey on. She could not get comfortable, no matter how much Jimmy kept adjusting her. Finally, he looked at her and said, "Mrs. Franco … are you sure it's not that jersey burning a hole in your back in the heart of Steelers' country?"
I laughed. Jimmy laughed. Mrs. Franco did not.
My daughters even asked me if they should cheer for the Patriots because of her illness. I loved my mother dearly. I wanted her to be better and not have this dreaded disease, but we were talking about the Patriots.
I told her I was rooting for the Eagles, which is how I sold it to my conscience.
One week from today, those darned Patriots will be going for Super Bowl No. 6 against the Rams, and if there is a rec room with a big TV up in heaven, I'm sure my mom will be watching.
I'm also sure there will be enough fellow angels with her, cheering them on, which is good because she won't need any help from me down here.
Scott Franco writes a monthly column for the Mirror.