Superbowl Come and Gone

Another super bowl Sunday has come and gone, the biggest game of the year, no the biggest single sporting event of the year, world wide. Foreigners and people in other countries can tune into this glorious event just like we can but unlike us, they understand that this is the most complicated and often anti-climatic sport in the world. Don’t quote me on this but I am pretty sure the U.S. bullies all the small fries at the U.N. conferences into broadcasting this confusing event, I mean, what the hell is a yard? Soccer, aka football, is the world’s most popular sport and we can’t even name one soccer player in this country besides David Beckham. In South America you can’t have a game without at least a bakers dozen of people getting trampled to death, or my personal favorite, falling from the upper deck because the people in the back have all decided to push forward; good times. Why can’t our fans be that way? That’s dedication.

But don’t get me wrong, I love football, I really do, but after this thing gets hyped up for two weeks, I can’t help but to feel slightly disappointed. I mean, a twenty one hour pre-game show? Come on! I know I don’t have to watch it but you would think we are being prepared for the integration of an alien race into our own and at half time the score is seven to three? I’m busting a nut here with excitement. And which washed up dinosaur did they dig up this year for the half time show? I didn’t even get to see the appearance of Janet Jackson’s old saggy boob, bad timing really, my head was turned but I did get to see the priceless response of my friends and those other people. Tom Petty wasn’t bad actually, at least not bad bad, better then I expected. And don’t forget the super bowl commercials. Any other day of the year, I hate the fact that I have to sit through the daily bombardment of advertising. It’s like having hundreds of people following you around asking for money constantly. But the super bowl? The one day of the year when advertising is actually entertaining, we actually enjoy it. Almost every single ad makes laugh, makes us smile or keeps us guessing, but that stupid Clydesdale stuff for Budweiser has got to go. As usual, this year did not disappoint. Why can’t ads be that good all the time?

At least there was a surprise ending this year. Eli redeemed himself from all those times he scrambled around, running for his life and then aimlessly flinging the ball over his shoulder to keep from losing yards, living up to that stupid look he has on his face. I’m happy for them, well done gentlemen, congratulations. I am going to miss that look on Tom Coughlins face, you know, the “oh my hell these guys suck” look, also priceless. There’s always next year, Eli Manning will be back. The only thing left, until next year, is the fifty seven hour post game analysis.