"Hell may have no fury like a woman scorned but heaven hath no sweetness like a sports fan vindicated." - Samcat

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Yes, but what about the wings?

The thing about not having a horse in the race, per se, is that in the seemingly interminable two weeks leading up to the Super Bowl, you find yourself less and less interested in reading the endless stream of articles on Kurt Warner's Benjamin Button-like reverse aging process or the Will He or Won't He discussions of Hines Wards' playing state. (He will, I'm sure of it). When you don't really have a rooting interest, you find yourself far more concerned with seating assignments on Sunday and more than a little distressed about the rumored hot wing shortage. Because, look, you can have a Super Bowl with or without a Jesus-loving quarterback. And you can have one with or without a wide receiver prone to fits of tears. But you absolutely cannot have one without hot wings. This is America, people! And hot wings are the lifeblood! Won't someone think of the children?

Or, perhaps more fairly, won't someone think of the embittered Patriots fan left to watch the Super Bowl in a room full of foaming at the mouth Steelers fans? Won't someone think of everyone's continued well-being by providing a spicy, salty and all around delicious meat product for her to cram in her mouth (watch it, smartasses, my mom reads this) to prevent her from making untoward comments about the idiocy of Terrible Towels (vs. Sham-Wows! Who you got?), and forever damaging her friendship with said Steelers fans? A girl needs her wings, people. This is all I'm saying.

However, despite my frequent ranting on this here site, I am actually a kind and loving person. As such, I have realized that it's in my best interest - karmically at least - to root for a team rather than against one. So I've decided that I will drive the "I want to discuss current events with Larry Fitzgerald over some Earl Grey tea" bus for the foreseeable future. Because doesn't he seem like a delightful fellow? Like someone who'd call you up and tell you he just got tickets to the new independent film opening at the art theater and would you like to go with him and perhaps enjoy some delicious crepes beforehand? Also? He is really good at football. Which is perhaps more important in this context than his ability to run mental circles around Ben Roethlisberger with a game of Connect 4.

Sebastian - dear, sweet, bundle of nerves Sebastian - thinks the Steelers are going to have a bigger problem with Anquan Boldin because Fitzgerald will be used primarily as a decoy, I guess. Perhaps his usefulness will come in much the same way as Ed Reed's did in the Divisional Game against the Titans wherein it was the job of at least four people to hog-tie and sit on Reed and keep him from disrupting the offense, thus leaving at least three other Ravens free to run wild. I suppose we'll see in due time, though Boldin's recent hissy fits about being taken out of the game during game-winning drives really reek of T.O.-ness and practically clamor for their own reality show. Who knows? Maybe we'll see a commercial for it at halftime. Coming soon to Fox: Disgruntled House. Starring Anquan Boldin, Terrell Owens and Stephon Marbury, with Joe Torre as the landlord.

I know only two things with certainty regarding this year's Super Bowl: 1) Bruce Springsteen and the E-Street Band as a halftime show is positively inspired and may be the best thing to happen all night and 2) there better be some wings. Or I'll eat Sebastian.