I know I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating: the Super Bowl does for football what St Patricks Day does for Irish pub patrons: drags in a whole bunch of riffraff who only give a crap once a year. And this is speaking as somebody who detests the NFL apart from the Redskins in almost every particular…but then, this is precisely why: they take something that should be a signature contest (like, say, a really big bowl game in the pre-BCS era), something that should rightfully sell itself, and then tart it up with all kinds of fluff and bread and circuses. Not to take a cheap shot, but if you have Meredith Viera and Al Roker broadcasting from your game, the football has ceased to be the point. If you’re watching a sporting event for the advertising? Something has gone very, very wrong.
Here’s a hint: if you drink green beer and think “26,” “6” and “32” are something off Lost, stay home on the 17th. And if somebody has to explain to you what “1st and 10” means, you really shouldn’t be watching the Super Bowl.
Birmingham-born Californian, age fifty-two, cannot return to his native state…there are 651,972 reasons why