Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Ways I Might Enjoy This Super Bowl

No thanks!
I like watching football. And I like spectacles even more. It's why I watch the State of the Union and the Oscars and the Super Bowl every year. But what if you hate both teams and also the halftime act in the Super Bowl? I'm pretty sure it's a crime against my Viking ancestors to support the Packers, but I'm also having a hard time rooting for a maybe-rapist. And on top of that, God help us, the Black Eyed Peas play in the middle of it all. I'll probably end up watching it anyway. And will cringe any time anyone scores. It would take a lot for me to enjoy the whole thing. Like, for instance:

The game starts and five interceptions are thrown in a row because players on both teams are in yellow pants and no one can tell who's on their side. So officials suspend the game so the players can all go home and change their pants. After a while the cheerleaders have gone through every routine they know and the footage of referees and coaches looking at their watches is getting repetitive, so Fox just starts showing classic Simpsons episodes in between commercial breaks. Then the players all finally get back to Cowboys Stadium, but it's 9:30 CST already and Fox has to show the new special episode of Glee, so the game goes untelevised and people who care look up the score online in the morning.

Or maybe the Packers win because the Steelers have to play without Roethlisberger after a group of women he's wronged storm the field and run him out of Arlington on a rail. The commercials are also miraculously all misogyny-free.

Or possibly the Black Eyed Peas, on their way to Texas from a series of tour dates in South America, have engine problems with their private jet and have to make an emergency landing on an unexplored island inhabited by a tribe of cannibals. Cannibals who prefer indie folk and who find the Black Eyed Peas' offering of bland, trite hip-hop underwhelming. As a result, the Black Eyed Peas have to miss their appointment to play halftime. Bruce Springsteen and Prince are both asked if they can fill in. They end up both saying yes and are both flown in last minute, and the halftime show ends up being 15 minutes of the Boss sliding crotch-first into cameras onstage while Prince makes shadow puppet penises with his guitar in the background.

Then I would love it. I would love it almost as much as I would have loved rooting for the Jets or Bears against the Steelers or Packers.

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