Well, it’s finally here – the academy awards of football will take over the airwaves this afternoon.
I was dismayed to learn that another team is actually going to the big party this year besides my beloved Saints. What’s with this other team – the Dolts, is it?
Super Bowl is a day when you are allowed to eat with your fingers, wear your fat pants, and not actually have to talk to anyone. It’s like a bonus Thanksgiving – a day when pigging out is totally acceptable and you can gage your “fun” quotient by the variety of stains on your blouse at the end of the game.
It’s practically your patriotic duty to endure this national ritual. Americans love the sport, and that’s because it involves three things we love: eating, drinking and yelling.
For me, the game itself has always been incidental. It’s the hen sessions going on in the kitchen and the commercials drawing us back to the tube that make it fun.
But this year is different. I couldn’t care less who wins, so long as it’s not the Colts.
It’s hard NOT to throw a few positive vibes at a team representing a city that needs all the love it can get. The Saints’ phenomenal year has galvanized a population that has been in limbo since the day Katrina blew through and washed everything away.
We DESERVE it, darn it.
So eat, clap and nap if you must, but make sure you root for the REAL winners in this game – The No Longer Ain’ts, Saints!