Super Bowl Wrap Up

Holy. Motherfletching. Shit.

That was awesome. I mean, I had no bets on that game (the economy truly is tough right now—you may have noticed) and I couldn’t care less who won. I usually root for the underdog but in this case the underdog happened to be owned by a guy who robbed me of a hometown football team for six very unsettling winters, winters in which I stared blankly at NFL games trying to figure out if I liked any team enough to root for them so I was not unhappy to see the Gridbirds lose. I also hate the Steelers and like it when they lose because they always win and they have a strong fan base and well… I guess that’s reason enough.

Anyway, I just wanted to see a good game. And, better than that, I saw a freaking great game. I have lots of criticism because a lot of the play calling sucked and a ton of bad decisions were made by the referees and the final Warner fumble definitely should have been reviewed but I don’t want to write about negative stuff. I want to write only positive things about an awesome game and a decent evening. So, here are my four favorite moments about Super Bowl (use roman numerals dammit) 43.

Brenda Warner
It’s funny how it took that chick five years to figure out that women just don’t look that good with buzz cuts. Oh well, you live and you learn and all that.

Ben Roethlisberger
Make no mistake, big Ben was the best QB in this game. I don’t care what the numbers say. His ability to shake defenders and find open receivers with linemen and linebackers practically moving into his anal cavity was beyond athleticism and awesomeness.

My Neighbor
I elected to watch the game at home and alone this year because I had never watched a Super Bowl alone before, and after the NFL Fan Experience, the Bud Bowls and the general crowdedness of the City of Tampa and its surrounding areas, I was just too fucking sick of people to want to watch a game with a group of them.

My father called before the game and asked me what I was doing for game day festivities and I responded, “I’m about festivitied out” (that’s right, I make up words). “After all this stuff going on I’d just as soon ignore the crowds, hole up in my apartment and count the hours until all these fucking people go home.”

His response: “Well then…”

So I recorded the Sopranos marathon on A & E and the Super Bowl so I didn’t have to watch one commercial and I could just sit at home in peace and watch a goddamn game and America’s favorite mob family.

Then, my neighbor, a nice, if not too skinny, Latina knocked on my door, saw that I was watching the game alone and proceeded to bring by a bottle of Puerto Rican rum, a bottle of Diet Coke, a plate of vegetables and some weird onion infused sausage dish that tasted way too fattening for my current diet. She even rubbed my feet during the game. I don’t care what Goodell said, that chick was the MVP of Super Bowl (fuck Roman numerals dammit) 43. I have to hand it to her. She was on her A game last night.

Steelers’ Fans
I have never seen such a dedicated group of fat people in my life. I mean, what happens up there? Do all the hot chicks bail for warmer pastures the second they turn eighteen or do they maybe wait a year or two?

All kidding aside though, none of the ones I met were assholes. They all seemed incredibly knowledgeable about the game of football and their love for their team was so heartfelt that I truly enjoyed talking to them. Even if they turned the streets of Tampa into a jiggly fat competition.

And during the game, well they knew how to root, saving their energies for the fourth quarter wherein they unloaded the verbal equivalent of an atom bomb. Just an awesome job by a group of generally unattractive people.

So yeah, the NFL season is over. The sports lull is upon us and drinking on Sunday afternoons is no longer socially acceptable. Oh well what the hell and all that?

Just fourteen days until pitchers and catchers report.