Superbowl Sunday



It’s here!!  It’s finally here!!  The culmination of a great season of football and some hard-fought battles with the pigskin brings us to the moment that the Vince Lombardi trophy will be awarded.  My efforts as “The Commish”  in a 17-week long football pool and playoff pool also come to an end at the pinnacle of the football season.

Superbowl Sunday is one of my most cherished days of the year, and also one of my least favorite days.  Although I plan my menu, don my football jersey and patiently wait for the final picks from the pool members, I instinctively feel sad because in a few short hours after kick-off it will all come to an abrupt end.  For a brief moment, my football cup goes from half-full to half-empty but then the roar of the crowd brings me back to life and I’m ready to watch the battle that is about to ensue.

This year’s rivalry between Baltimore and San Francisco should be particularly exciting – the Harbaugh bowl.  The pure, raw desire for each of these teams to reign supreme is evident on the field, but this year the competition has set brother vs brother on the coaching sideline.  The deeply etched scars of the carnage on the field are proudly worn as badges of honor, but on opposite sidelines family honor is also up for grabs.

Superbowl Sunday has become one of the most anticipated sporting events.  Last year, the game was rated the most watched television event ever, drawing over 111 million viewers. Even if you are not a dedicated football fan through the regular season, there is something so enticing about the spirit of Superbowl Sunday.  Friends gather, tailgate worthy snacks, pots of chili, ribs and BBQ meals are prepared and served amidst screams of joy and derogatory comments towards the referees.  A broad spectrum of emotion fills the room and the anticipation of the final minutes of the game is excruciating. And if your living room is anything like mine, there are a few well placed F-bombs!!

When the game is done, the trophy is presented and the celebration is carried on beyond the cameras, there should be a rehabilitation program for those going through football withdrawal.  I admittedly feel a sense of loss and wander aimlessly on the Sunday following Superbowl, trying to overcome that loss.  The sudden deviation to absolutely no football requires an intense effort to fill those weekend hours and I am forced to find sufficient entertainment to fill that void.  Thank God for blogging!

But for now, I will focus on Superbowl XLVII – the throw down between the Ravens and the 49ers.  It’s gonna be loud, it’s gonna be rough and it’s gonna be the Niners 34 and the Ravens 27.  Happy Superbowl Sunday!!

Projectile vomiting and football


I am a huge NFL fan….I have been since I was old enough to know what I was watching on television.  Maybe that was my initiation  into becoming a tomboy, who knows?  Regardless of which came first, the pigskin or the scars, I am who I am.


I was fortunate to meet some good friends in 1999 who ran a fantastic restaurant and an equally great football pool.  Back then it was on a piece of legal paper, hand-written, with a relatively legible set of football picks.  I had explained to these two dear gentlemen how much more impressive it would be to have an Excel spreadsheet that could total wins automatically and the gauntlet of running the pool was immediately thrust into my hands.  Since 2003, I have grown the pool from twenty participants to sixty-five.  I am affectionately known as “The Commish” during my favorite season of the year – football season.

During those many years, I have only been close to the big prize once – and after a horrific showing in week 17 of the regular season, I dropped from first place to fourth place in a matter of hours and right out of the money.  For years, it was known as the ‘crash and burn’.  This year, I find myself going into week 17 tied for first place and the memories of that fatal crash are bubbling to the surface.  My heart is racing (thankfully I took my blood pressure meds this morning) and I needed to find a distraction to quell the feeling of sickness in the pit of my stomach.  Hence, this blog post.  I apologize for what could be seen as needless drivel, but writing not only distracts me, it calms my nerves.

I will be truly happy for the winners, whatever the outcome, but it would extremely uplifting to overcome that stigma of being the sorriest pilot in the NFL pool flight academy.

The large screen beckons, the green turf is inviting and the voices in my head are telling me to trust my gut.  That may be difficult since my gut may be sent hurtling across my living room soon, but I’ll give it the old college try!!  Go Chargers!!