I'll admit. I do not have a favorite team. I did not plan to watch Superbowl 2014 at all. I wanted to listen to the incredible lyric soprano, Renee Fleming, sing the Star-Spangled Banner and go shopping as soon as she broke through the stratosphere with the last note ringing through the clouds like I knew she would. On that count, I was not disappointed. Somehow the shopping was derailed and I decided to focus on the game instead - trying one more time to understand the game of football. I think I finally get it.
1. I can choose my favorite team based solely on how they run (or gallop) onto the field.
A horse rides out and I'm all in.
Broncos! All the way!
What is a first down?
5. I finally understand the rules of this game. Unequivocally. Pay attention.
Men (and apparently some animal totems) chase an odd-shaped brown object known as a football, presumably for kicking purposes. But there is very little kicking. Said men are only interested in knocking the custard out of each other to get their hands on the silly brown ball, which obviouslllllyyyy does not fit any of their hands. It flies all over the place! So they spend their time throwing their entire bodies down on top of it like the secret service protecting the POTUS. Then they curl themselves into a fetal position while all manner of hell breaks loose on top of them while everybody including mascots and striped uniform men pummel them to pieces scratching for the brown ball which somehow remains inflated.
I can't believe anybody on top of that ball makes it out of there alive.
6. I am superstitious. This game was full of scary things. I believe in peace doves being released into the world. I believe in wise owls and bluejays of happiness. Animal totems should be positive and friendly. But when I saw a ornery live seahawk sitting on someone's head on the field, I ran out of the room screaming! Just another reason for me to root for the Doomed From Denver. So I did. It was a bad omen! Hawk! Balk! Balk! (apparently, not for the Seattle Seahawks...)