Kitty feels me.
Things we learned during Super Bowl XL:
* Jerome Bettis is from Detroit. (I know!)
* The NFL really needs to work on this whole “officiating” thing.
* John Madden has apparently made it through an entire broadcasting career without drawing crude anatomical drawings with the Telestrator. Frankly, I don’t think I would have made it past three games.
* Jerome Bettis’s mama loves him.
* Tom Brady is pretty.
*Peyton, Eli and Archie Manning are in the football equivalent of the Witness Protection Program.
* Ben Roethlisberger is, uh, well, he ain’t that smart, folks. We’ll leave it at that.
* No matter how far modern technology and marketing have come, the best way to sell your products is still to put big boobs in the commercials.
* Or horses. People seem to like horses.
* Bill Cowher is the world’s most terrifying human and I could have happily lived my whole life without ever seeing him kiss ANYONE.
* The Stones no longer cheat death. They now openly mock it and refer to it as “their bitch.”
* Stevie Wonder’s suit could comfortably double as a penthouse for the teeny, tiny, weepy Hines Ward.
* Jerome Bettis will no longer play football.
* This Super Bowl was intensely boring and underwhelming.
Look, it’s like this: I really thought I could be neutral, watching with friends who are Steelers fans and all. But then the Steelers started winning and all the calls started going their way and my Pats fan sensibilities came to the forefront and I thought, “Oh my god, I really and truly hate the Steelers.”
Can’t teach an old dog new tricks and apparently you can’t teach a dyed in the wool Pats fan to cheer for the Steelers. I’m happy for my friends who are Steelers fans because they’re good people and it’s always nice when good people are happy. But as a Pats fan…I just can’t get behind that. And I justify it this way: The Pats and the Steelers have turned into quite a rivalry over the past few years (pretty sure the Steelers still can’t beat us, actually,) so I’ve spent my football-viewing life cheering against them. It’s hard to turn on a dime like that. That and, I’d bet money that if it had been the Pats vying for another championship, Sebastian, Katherine and the lot of ’em would NOT have been cheering for the Patriots.
So, that’s that. Like I said, decidedly underwhelming. However, there were a few comments worth sharing:
An unidentified viewer upon watching Hines Ward hold the Lombardi Trophy in one hand and his son in the other: “Hey, Hines, if there were an emergency situation and you had to make a break for it, which one gets saved? Trophy or baby?”
Amy, after nearly every commercial, 90% of which made no sense and/or could have been Mark Bellhorn’s Marketing 101 final at THC University: “Am I high? Seriously. Are we all high?”
My brother after I complained about the fact that Roethlisberger having a Super Bowl ring makes me sick to my stomach considering that he’s easily one of the five dumbest humans alive: “He’s a football player. They’re lucky if they can even say their names, let alone spell them. And with a name like ‘Roethlisberger’ he must have been the valedictorian of the ‘Fundamentals of Golf’ class he took at Miami of Ohio.”
So there you have it. Another Super Bowl in the books. Yawn. I haven’t the slightest idea what I’ll be doing for the next month as I’m not allowed to watch the Bruins because they evidently hate me personally and they’ll turn on the suck if I watch so much as a face off, Olympic hockey is on at something ridiculous like two in the afternoon and the World Baseball Classic doesn’t start until early March.
If you need me, I’ll be hiding in a bunker somewhere with my copies of Faith Rewarded and 21.