In The Name of The Father, The Son, and The Holy Gridiron, Amen...

I’ll get to my Bowling Green Birthday story next week, because tomorrow is Stream of Consciousness Friday which cannot be pre-empted, and I realize that I have not weighed in on the deeply religious American holiday…The Super Bowl. That’s right folks, Sunday February 4th, millions of Americans will be glued steadfast to their TVs watching the Indianapolis Colts wage war with the Chicago Bears to determine who the best team in football is this year…Super Bowl XLI, a game so important we denote it with Roman numerals.

For those of you who aren’t up on this event, the Super Bowl is that big. It is to many Americans what the World Cup of Soccer is to Europeans, Asians, South Americans, and what the “Annual Make Shift Raft Race to Miami” is to unfulfilled Cubans.

The National Football League has managed to market this event from being just another game into an event that rivals the second coming of Christ. In fact if Christ did return to Earth during the middle of the third quarter, he’d better not show up in the USA. If he showed up here and it diverted coverage of the game, he would quickly find that the brutality of getting nailed to a cross by a couple of skirt wearing Romans, pales in comparison to getting pummeled to death by an angry, chicken wing toting mob of football fans with bellies full of Budweiser and faces dripping with Hot Sauce and Cheez Whiz. Screw the cross; they’d be spiking him in the end zone. Final Score...Messianic Maulers: 49…Son of God: 0.

Different folks find different reasons for watching the Big Game. Some admire the athleticism, skill, and strength displayed during the sixty minute battle, while others who have none of those traits, enjoy pontificating about how, if they hadn’t been screwed earlier in life, would be playing today and playing better than these clowns. I , personally Some guys like to watch the game because the dude down the street with the hot wife will be throwing a party complete with free beer, a full spread of food, and when said dude passes out, his hot wife will be drunk and willing. Still others get all a-titter over the Halftime festivities. This year it’s Prince. I was hoping for David Hasselhoff, but oh well, maybe next year.

Whatever the reason you watch, I hope you enjoy the Super Bowl. Tomorrow afternoon (after Streaming Friday, of course) I will post some tips, insight, and information that will be certain to make your viewing of this spectacle more enjoyable.

Until then, may your field goals split the uprights, your end zone remain virginal, and as always, Cheers!!