All the Supers
Before I moved to the US, I never watched football. It’s not a popular sport outside of the US and when you do say football everywhere else, people think you mean what Americans call “soccer.”
Then I moved to Beantown for grad school. All of the friends I made there – both men and women – were and still are huge sportsball fans. By that I mean football, basketball, hockey, baseball, and even sometimes soccer. If anyone knows anything about Boston then they know it’s a sports crazed city. You’ve got the Red Sox, Celtics, Bruins, and of course the much hated Patriots (hated by everyone who isn’t from New England that is).
I lived in Boston when the Pats won one of the Super Bowls, but for the life of me I can’t remember which one.
That is how much I don’t care about football. Also sports statistics. In fact, I can’t stand football. The damn ball isn’t even kicked, except once in a while. Plus a bunch of men clobber each other on the field by attempting to pile up on top of one another. Also, there are SO.MANY.DAMN.COMMERCIALS.
BUT then there’s the Super Bowl. Every year in Boston my friends would get together and watch it, no matter who was playing. I came to learn that the game is a part of it, but there’s just so much more.
Friends come together around this particular sportsball game, eat a ton of food that could give you a heart attack within a matter of seconds, and down a ridiculous amount of alcohol (which later in your 30s and 40s means one to one drink and a half).
After moving to Virginia and making friends, that annual Super Bowl get together thing started happening again. It’s the only time I love football.
Scratch that. I still don’t care about the game, but instead look forward to the company and food. Also sometimes the commercials.
I just wish the game started earlier or that the Monday after the Super Bowl was a national holiday so we could all recover.
Here’s to hopefully another fun night, getting together with friends, and watching large grown men not kick a ball around.