Countdown to Superbowl: And it Can't Come Soon Enough
Hey, Tim Tebow, guess what?! You're not the only one thanking God. Guess what, me and the big guy have been having some pretty intense one on one moments too. And I think he's heard my prayers: Thank you, Lord. Football season is ending.
Yep, that's right. Like many of you, I am counting down the days to Superbowl. But it's not because I care about football or have a team I am rooting for. Oh, no. Noooo. I am excited because boyfriends, husbands, fathers, brothers, (and chicks that think an oversized jersey is hot), will get out of fantasy football land and come back to the land of "just another Sunday" and Monday night blues. (Oh, wait. Let's not forget about what you consider "Must See TV Thursday" night games too. Newsflash: That Packers game only makes me miss Ross and Rachel more).
Look, I don't know the difference between Eli and Payton (Whatever. That's how I'd spell it) Manning, and the only reason I know about Tom Brady is because I'm jealous that Gisele is the most gorgeous woman alive. And has perfect boobs. And body. And hair. And everything.
Want to know the two words that haunt me in my sleep? The game. The game. The game is on. Going to watch the game with the guys. Want to come over for the game? Sorry, I can't. The Game! The guys are coming over for the game. I'll call you after the game. Great game. Goooooood game. HORRIBLE game. Boring game. The game. THE. GAME. The Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaame.
I. Don't. Care. About. The. Game. Yes, I'm looking at the television with you, but all I hear is chatter and all I see are moving specks. Honestly, it looks like an electronic version of a scene painted by George Seurat. All I see are dots. Yes, I am looking, but nope. I'm not following. I have no idea what down it is, why there's a penalty and why grown men have long hair coming out of their helmets. None of it makes sense and the only thing I can identify as positive for MY team, is that it says there's 2 minutes left in the 4th quarter. Which.... Really means there's 20. Awesome!
At least with basketball, that is, Lakers Basketball, there's something interesting on the sidelines.... Jack Nicholson, Andy Garcia, The Kardashians (until Odom went to Dallas and Phil Jackson was replaced by some dude) ... I had something to look at. Eye candy. Excitement. Dazzle! In football, it's just a sea of fat people wearing parkas and gloves. Frankly, it just makes me feel sad. It's 72 degrees here in LA. Really? The Ravens make you forget about blizzards and frozen carburetors?! Get a life.
And don't even get me started on the TV cable packages that are so frantic they probably cause seizures and give ADHD to grown men. Between the Red Zone channel and commentators like Joe Buck and Troy Aikman, it's amazing your head doesn't explode Sunday evenings.
So at last, Superbowl Sunday approaches. I'll have to ask nine hundred times that day who's playing and who "we" want to win (at least I'm an amenable non fan). I'll watch and if given enough snacks to feel like there was a purpose for me attending what I personally consider as National Chips, Dip and Chili day, then I might even scream "Go!" or throw some money into a side bet or two. Until February 5 though, I'm going to continue thanking the big guy for wrapping up the season. You never know, my commitment to him for this cause could get so popular, you might even share a photo of me in a prayer like position on Facebook too. Men beware, the countdown is trending.