2008 Woodie Awards
I don't care about the Super Bowl
Michael Rizzo
Issue date: 1/31/08 Section: Sports
Ah, the Super Bowl - and its ability to bring men together.
I could spend Sunday evening watching instant replays of the same thing we've already seen 41 times: Men dressing up in tights, jumping all over each other, throwing balls around and dripping with sweat.
Or, I could spend the following day watching Animal Planet's "Puppy Bowl IV," something - and I think Michael Vick would agree - much more rewarding.
I can think of a million things I'd rather be doing Feb. 3 than watching the Super Bowl.
Playing Candy Land. Shopping at Lane Bryant. Listening to Delilah. Smoking crack. Visiting the cemetery.
Burning ants with a magnifying glass. Driving a 1970 Lincoln Continental without power steering. Protesting Army servicemembers' funerals with the Phelps family. Fishing.
. . .
Despite the fact that the most boring-est (I think that's how football players speak) form of entertainment will be pervading networks in 230 lands across the world for a long, droning, monotonous four hours on Sunday night, you need not fret.
You can still suck all the good stuff out of the Super Bowl without indulging in the farcical masculinity of a sad commentary on American culture.
Here's the plan:
Just TiVo the whole thing. Spare yourself the National Anthem, though. It's Jordin Sparks - ouch!
Once you press record, you've got some time to kill. So do some crocheting perhaps. Yarn beer koozies are all the rage this Super Bowl season.
Or, bask in some old Super Bowl memories - like Janet's mammory - on YouTube.
Just be sure to watch the clock, because at about two and half hours in, it's time to begin your celebration. Now, if you're an avid DVR user, it's going to take a little backward programming. Just keep trying - you'll get it right eventually.
Remember: Football, bad. Commercials, good.
I mean, corporations are spending up to $2.7 million on a 30-second spot. (Anheuser Busch bought 10.) They better be good.
Not to mention it's an American privilege. People in Serbia have to watch ads for their local supermarket.
Then . . . Oh my, my. Oh hell yes. Light up with Tom Petty at the half-time show and start the freefall into the second half.
If he's not all the excitement you were hoping for, don't worry. There's still the Kitty Half-Time show to look forward to in less than 24 hours.
If you do everything right, you'll successfully curtail the miserably grueling experience that is football, experience the satisfaction that results from hubris, overweening commercialism, and be right in time to catch the new episode of "House" airing immediately after.
You catch all that? I hope so. It's so easy, a football player could do it.
I could spend Sunday evening watching instant replays of the same thing we've already seen 41 times: Men dressing up in tights, jumping all over each other, throwing balls around and dripping with sweat.
Or, I could spend the following day watching Animal Planet's "Puppy Bowl IV," something - and I think Michael Vick would agree - much more rewarding.
I can think of a million things I'd rather be doing Feb. 3 than watching the Super Bowl.
Playing Candy Land. Shopping at Lane Bryant. Listening to Delilah. Smoking crack. Visiting the cemetery.
Burning ants with a magnifying glass. Driving a 1970 Lincoln Continental without power steering. Protesting Army servicemembers' funerals with the Phelps family. Fishing.
. . .
Despite the fact that the most boring-est (I think that's how football players speak) form of entertainment will be pervading networks in 230 lands across the world for a long, droning, monotonous four hours on Sunday night, you need not fret.
You can still suck all the good stuff out of the Super Bowl without indulging in the farcical masculinity of a sad commentary on American culture.
Here's the plan:
Just TiVo the whole thing. Spare yourself the National Anthem, though. It's Jordin Sparks - ouch!
Once you press record, you've got some time to kill. So do some crocheting perhaps. Yarn beer koozies are all the rage this Super Bowl season.
Or, bask in some old Super Bowl memories - like Janet's mammory - on YouTube.
Just be sure to watch the clock, because at about two and half hours in, it's time to begin your celebration. Now, if you're an avid DVR user, it's going to take a little backward programming. Just keep trying - you'll get it right eventually.
Remember: Football, bad. Commercials, good.
I mean, corporations are spending up to $2.7 million on a 30-second spot. (Anheuser Busch bought 10.) They better be good.
Not to mention it's an American privilege. People in Serbia have to watch ads for their local supermarket.
Then . . . Oh my, my. Oh hell yes. Light up with Tom Petty at the half-time show and start the freefall into the second half.
If he's not all the excitement you were hoping for, don't worry. There's still the Kitty Half-Time show to look forward to in less than 24 hours.
If you do everything right, you'll successfully curtail the miserably grueling experience that is football, experience the satisfaction that results from hubris, overweening commercialism, and be right in time to catch the new episode of "House" airing immediately after.
You catch all that? I hope so. It's so easy, a football player could do it.
Viewing Comments 1 - 3 of 3
Ted Rudow III,MA
posted 1/31/08 @ 8:31 AM PST
It's a spiritual thing. It's the spirit of competition and pride, proving you're better than the other guy. They do it by sheer brawn, by their own strength, which really feeds their pride. (Continued…)
chris
posted 2/07/08 @ 7:53 PM PST
Yeah, I agree. I was supposed to have a few beers with a friend on Super Bowl sunday, I thought it was this week, lol. Turns out it was what, 2 weeks ago or something? American Rugby as I like to call it, is filled with overpaid, childish, ignorant neanderthals (not all of them, I'm sure, but it's the general stereotype that's portrayed). (Continued…)
Luke A
posted 2/08/08 @ 12:11 AM PST
Knowing me I was probably drawing and had missed the whole thing by the time I'd thought of it.
Occurred to me afterwards to ask somebody in one of the halls who won. (Continued…)
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