Super Bowl Sunday!
Meh.
Neither one of us is what you would call "football literate". We were talking about it this morning and I mentioned I didn't even know the names of half the positions, and the ones I did know, I didn't know what they did. Other than Quarterback - that one I get. The boyfriend claimed he could name the positions, and then proceeded to list "endzone", "cheerleader" and "hiker".
So, needless to say, we won't be doing play-by-play.
With that in mind, we picked a hell of a town to live in. Bako is football crazy, like small town Texas. The High School football players are treated like rock stars, with up-close-and-personal interviews on the local news. So I've found during football season, it's best to just keep a low profile.
Although I almost blew it big time a couple of weeks ago, one Monday, having a smoke outside one of my local clients. One of the big wigs joined me outside and started making small talk.
"Damn shame about the Vikings..." he said.
I agree. They should totally get more credit for discovering America.
Oops...
Luckily I realized he was talking about football before I opened my mouth.
"Damn straight" I said, stamped out my smoke and got the hell out of there.
The thing about the Super Bowl that cracks me up is the fact that they've stuck with the Roman numerals all these years, long past when most of their target audience could figure it out. They were probably OK up through the "30's" - "XXX" isn't that hard. But once they entered the "40's", XL, they probably left a lot of people scratching their heads in bewilderment...
"Extra Large? Huh...?"
Can't wait to see what they do in a few years for the grand celebration of the 50th Super Bowl when they'll be stuck with a big, fat "L".
We'll end up watching, if for nothing more than for the spectacle and the commercials. For us, the bathroom breaks come whenever their are people moving on the field.
And we'll put out the traditional Super Bowl spread... you now, brie, paté, a nice Cabernet.
