It was early November when I was tailgating with a quartet of friends across the street from Gillette Stadium, where in a few hours we would be tormented by the sluggish play of the New England Patriots and Indianapolis Colts. Less than three weeks until Thanksgiving, I grilled steak tips and sampled salsa dressed in no more than a hoodie and shorts. The high temperature in Foxborough that day was 73 degrees, a climate more suited for training camp rather than a Week 9 NFL game being played in the Northeast.
Amidst an admittedly-uneducated discussion about the climate, one of my friends suggested that everything now is just a month later. In a sense, if you don’t like the weather, wait a month and it will probably be what you’d normally expect. Yet, that circumstance would suggest that wearing shorts to a football game in early October in Massachusetts would be a normal occurrence. Unless you’re a teenager, and you wear shorts no matter the arctic chill, that’s unlikely.
But I gave him the month anyway, and held back my skiing expectations for December. So, if mid-December should be thought of as mid-November, weather-wise, New England was off to a pretty good start to the season when some areas of Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine, saw more than two feet of heavy snow over one weekend. At the very least, it was a great base-building event.
And then came the rain and skyrocketing, spring-like temperatures. That base quickly faded away.