5 things I hated about Super Bowl Sunday

I bet this post won’t be like anything you’re expecting. I’m a girl (yes, I’m sure of it), so I guess you’ll expect some talk about the commercials, the Half-Time show and/or the food I ate during the game. Or, maybe (God forbid), I should be talking about Joe Flacco, and how he’s so dreamy and all that crap. (But, honestly have you seen the guy? He’s not even that handsome).

Well, if you are, I’m sorry to disappoint. I’m the wrong kind of girl for that. Really, I am. I was not wired that way. Sure, I enjoyed the few commercials I did see, and Beyonce rocked the Half-Time show, but I wanted to watch the game. Yes, the game. I wanted to have conversations about what kind of coverage the Ravens would use against Kaepernick, one of those running QBs people talk so much about lately. I wanted to talk football. 

And, on that note, here are the five things I hated about Super Bowl Sunday (I did love some things, though. Maybe that deserves another post):

1. A Super Bowl without my team. Yeah, it was a good game. But I wasn’t an emotional wreck. I wasn’t crying, screaming or yelling at the TV. I wasn’t worried. I knew the players, I knew the coaches, I even know a little about the history…but I wasn’t really invested. I didn’t care who won or lost. My team was not around. And there’s nothing like a Super Bowl when your team is involved.
2. Being forced to listen to 30-minutes of fill-in from the analyst because the lights decided to go out. And I thank the LORD that I wasn’t forced to listen to it in Spanish. The FOX analysts in Spanish are the worst thing in the history of sports. Don’t get me started about ESPN in Spanish. Oh, no. Even with the right analysts, though, thirty minutes is a little too long to have to listen to anyone not say anything relevant.
3. Ray Lewis. Sob story and all, I think people make Ray Lewis out to be a hero, and I’m not sure he really is. It’s funny how we tend to forgive our athletes. Ben Roethlisberger and those girls he supposedly raped? He won a Super Bowl, so he’s forgiven. Ray Lewis might have killed two people, or, at least, he knows more than he’s telling, but he’s all about God now, and he is retiring …so let’s root for him to win a Super Bowl. Eh, no, thanks. I don’t go for that.
4. Being told that Super Bowl weekend is for guys. Women get the chips and the salsa. Make sure the beer is cold. Or, if you want, you can be a cheerleader, honey. You’re not required to have an opinion on the actual game, at least not one based on actual football-related reasons. Pick a team based on a guy you think is HOT, and then “cheer” for them by looking at the TV once every five minutes. Guys may say women who like sports are brilliant, but, deep down, they all seem to want a woman who PRETENDS to like sports. That way, they can still look smarter. 
5. That the NFL season is over. Sure, my team lost a couple of weeks ago, but there were still games to be played. Now it’s a whole lot of nothing for a months and months. There’s no baseball till April. February is just …one of those months. I’ve never been a fan. I like choices. Being able to watch more than one sport. I like September. Yeah. September is the perfect sports month. A little bit of everything.

I guess now it’s time to take a vacation, or something. A vacation, yeah. Sounds about right.

The size of my NFL obsession

About seventeen years ago (GOD, I’M OLD), I was a little kid, trying to figure out what that wacky sport where people hit each other all the time was. My dad was (still is, poor Dad) a Dolphins fan, and he used to watch games religiously (he still does, poor, poor Dad). He tried to explain the game, and, after a while, told me that the best way to get to like something was to pick a team. Once I had a team, I’d be more interested.

Of course, he was expecting me to pick the Dolphins. He proceeded to explain to me that Dan Mariano was the best QB in the universe, and I should always pick a team with a great QB.

I was never a particularly rebellious child, but there is something against going against what your father is telling you. So, of course, I asked, if Dan Mariano is the best QB in the world, who is second best?

John Elway, my dad said. He plays for the Broncos.

And, that’s how my NFL obsession was born. Seventeen years ago I became a Broncos fan, mostly, to spite my dad. I’ve watched all these years, through the Elway years with two Super Bowls, to Brien Griese trying to live up to his father’s legacy, Jake “The Snake” Plummer, and that one AFC Championship game. I watched Mike Shanahan draft a QB when we supposedly didn’t need one. I even bought a Jay Cutler shirt, (still have it, even if Cutler has been QB for the Bears for more years than he was with the Broncos. One does not get rid of Broncos shirts.)

I remember when they fired Shanahan. I remember the press conference where Josh McDaniels (let’s call him McIdiot, just to show how much we love him) was introduced. I remember trading away Cutler. And, I remember Orton. Clearly. I remember screaming TEBOW at the television. I remember having about eight heart attacks last season. 

And, then there was Peyton.

Point is …I’ve been a fan for a very long time. Good times, some not so good times. Some horrible, horrible times that I hope never ever come back. I know the names of all the guys on offense, even the offensive line. I know the names of all the guys on defense (and that is even MORE impressive). I can recognize the running backs coach and the special teams coach on the sideline.

I’m a big, big fan. One of those that will sit down an hour before game-time tomorrow and watch the NFL network. One of those who will yell at the TV. I’m a big Denver Broncos fan, and it’s been a long, long time, since I’ve seen my team in the playoffs and felt GOOD about their chances. 

Doesn’t mean I’ll be calm tomorrow. As I mentioned before, I’m a big, big fan. Worry comes with the territory. I know the weather report for tomorrow. I’ve heard the predictions, I’ve seen the interviews. I’m ready. And so is my team.

They, after all, have Peyton Manning. Last time we had a QB that good, it was 1998. That was a good year. A really, really good year.