It’s getting a little crazy around here!
I mean, I know this time of year is a pretty big deal for the manliest of the men…and women…who’ve been anxiously awaiting this weekend for the past four months one Sunday afternoon at a time, but right now you can’t even walk into a grocery store without getting assaulted by ten foot tall stacks of beer cases shaped like the Lombardi trophy, surrounded at its base by enough Limited Edition Super Bowl-Sanctioned Dipping Chips to feed a small army. And that’s just in Anytown, USA – here in Tampa as the hosts of Super Bowl XXIXXIYVVI, people don’t just have Super Bowl Fever – they’ve got the full-blown Football Pneumonia with a side order of Obsession! This morning I accidentally made a right turn onto Touchdown Boulevard and was stuck in traffic for, like, a year and a half…
Of course, I know that this game is a big deal for some people, like the fans, the players, and the guys who own the strip clubs within a stone’s throw of the stadium, but just between you and me, it’s a zany good time that I, for one, have kind of a tough time embracing because frankly, I just don’t really care for football all that much.
I know – big surprise from the guy who’d rather reformat hard drives or catch-up on Battlestar Galactica forums into the wee hours of the afternoon than actually go outside and do pretty much anything with a ball!
Now I probably shouldn’t say that too loud around here – I’d probably get extradited or punted or something – but the truth is that even growing up as a young lad back in the day, I really didn’t care much for football then, either, unless I was playing Tecmo Bowl on my Nintendo, and if my memory serves I really wasn’t even all that great at that, either! Sports in general were a thing that required…hmmm, how do I put it…physical ability, which being the kid who could save the princess on Super Mario Brothers in less than 27 minutes, I’m sure it’s not that much of a shock that I didn’t have more experience tossing the old pig skin around out in the backyard. Hey, somebody had to protect the fair citizens of the Mushroom Kingdom and those “guards” the princess had sure weren’t stepping up to the task…
So mind you, I suppose that certainly tends to beg the age-old question – what exactly is a totally-and-entirely-disinterested-in-football-kinda guy like me to do when he finds himself completely and utterly Gatorade-drenched in football fanatica here in the heart of it all only days before the big game? Do I hide in the house, close the curtains, and dig out my old copy of Tecmo Bowl in a vain attempt to feel at least somewhat sporty over the next three days? Maybe just tune in during halftime to watch good, old Bruce rock out American style, then catch the best of the commercials on YouTube Monday morning? I guess as a last ditch attempt, I could always just sit back, put on an old DVD or find some non-football-related reruns on TV, and quietly wait as this, too, shall eventually pass. Besides, before we know it, the celebrities and wanna-be celebrities and even the wanna-be wanna-be celebrities will have all retreated back to Hollywood, New York, and suburban Rhode Island, the massive game day potato chip displays in all of the grocery stores will be replaced with St. Patrick’s Day novelties (or Halloween candy, in Wal-Mart’s case), and finally, after what already seems like far too long, I’ll thankfully be able to walk down the cookie aisles of said grocery stores and be able to purchase Oreos that aren’t in the shape of little footballs.
Don’t let the steroids fool you this Sunday – sometimes it really is the little things that count!