Sunday, February 1, 2009

The Super Bowl Party

Today we went to a super bowl party not because Mr. Rogue and I like football at all but because we love greasy barbecue food, lavish amounts of alcohol and hanging out with friends. The fact that there is a football game is only noted in passing because it is supposedly the purpose of this get together; we will ignore the football part and focus on the part that we like. I honestly did not even know one of the teams that was playing when I got there, a fact that I did not share with the various other football fans at the event. I did not want to get lynched for my non-football knowledge and obvious lack of interest in an event they have been waiting all year for.

I was not born with the football gene, it did not run in my family, the men in my house were basketball fans, but I did have the misfortune of being sucked against my will into the football scene through an ex-boyfriend for a few years. A time I will forever try to erase from my brain since his moods and therefore my days were subject to either extreme highs or dismal lows depending on how well his teams played and weather or not they won. I was never very interested in the sport and faked any kind of interest when I felt it was easier than explaining that football in my mind is not that fun to watch.

Today however there was a weird chi in the air or someone had drugged my food because I managed to sit down and watch the game from start to finish and I was actually interested in what was going on. It was like a part of me that had always been dormant had peeked its eyes open for a few hours and sucked me into the excitement of it all. Maybe it was because I used to live in Pittsburgh and the Steelers were one of the teams, maybe it was because there were so many girls there interested in the game and we were goofing off in between plays and having fun, maybe it was because it was such a great close game, or maybe it was because I did not feel like I was being forced or cajoled to watch the game, I was there out of my own free will and it was nice.


One of the best things about this particular game was the fact that Mr. O.C. a man obsessed with football and even more obsessed with his team was so funny to watch. Mr. O.C. is a diehard Pittsburgh Steelers man and his pain or joy was so plainly written in every grunt and scream and gasp of pain that it made the ups and downs of the game even better because I was anticipating the chaos of what his reaction would be. Like watching a bunch of apes hitting each other over the head and fighting for the last piece of banana in a zoo I was enthralled by the byplay of the different men in the room. I may never truly understand the passion of football but I think today I did relate to it in a small way that may give me a bit more tolerance for understanding its draw with the American people.


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