If the world made any sense, we would all be getting ready to watch the Super Bowl today. Right now I would be at Wal-Mart buying chips and salsa and bottles of soda, and chuckling at all the sad-looking people in their Packer gear (teehee). I would be full of anticipation for the late afternoon kick-off. The epic showdown between the undefeated New England Patriots and the Cinderella Story New York Giants. Brady vs. The Other Manning. Michael Strahan’s last shot at glory. Randy Moss‘s first shot in the big game. Commercials, commercials, commercials.
Unfortunately the world does not make any sense, so here I am blogging instead of getting ready for the game. Instead of looking forward to an afternoon and evening of Super Bowl celebration, I’m pondering whether I should drag myself out to a movie, or spend my day flipping zombie-like through the TV channels (more Mythbusters) or perhaps just stick my head in the oven.
Seriously NFL – why do you do it to us? Why do you force that extra week in between the conference title games and the Bowl? What do you need it for? To publicize the game? Yeah, cause no one would know about it otherwise. It can’t be a matter of logistics, because there are years when there is only one week (blissful years those are too), and if you can do it some years, why can’t you do it all years?
If the reason for that extra week is, as some have said, to give the game a greater sense of gravity and importance by separating it from the rest of the playoffs…well, that’s just stupid. It’s the Super Bowl. It’s already the biggest event in the universe (with the possible exception of the annual release of Maxim’s hottest women list…speaking of which, when will Kathy Griffin get the recognition she deserves?).
I’m begging you NFL, give your fans a break. Stop making us sit through that extra excruciating week of hype and idiocy and Mark Schlereth saying nothing over and over. Stop forcing us to endure seven more days of Sean Salisbury and John Clayton pretending not to have man-crushes on each other. Cease in your efforts to drive us utterly insane by making us suffer through even more kissy-face profiles of Tom Brady than we would have to deal with otherwise.
Allow us, the fans of teams who aren’t in the Super Bowl, to just get the whole damn thing over with so we can begin the only thing that truly gives us joy: day-dreaming over all the free agents we’re going to sign and all the great players we’re going to draft, so that next year our team can be the one everyone gets sick of hearing about.
Please NFL – take back your week of torture. And while you’re at it, could you think about instituting a dress-code for coaches? I’m sick of Bill Belichick looking like a homeless man. I swear to God, if I saw him in real life, I’d want to give him a quarter. And that’s just wrong.