Last night’s Super Bowl game was thoroughly disappointing…in fact, it was downright abysmal and I voiced as much a number of times via text messages and Facebook posts. Unfortunately, my team did not win. It wasn’t just a loss by a few points…it was a crushing defeat. I’m OK with that….really. In fact, though I’m unhappy that my team was trounced, I’ll admit that it must feel pretty darn cool to be the winners–it’s the Seahawks first Super Bowl win and I feel happy for them…really.
Some folks (and they shall remain nameless) get downright despondent after their beloved team loses a game. Not me. Remember…I care not one whit about the sport. And yet, I found myself cursing like a sailor just ten minutes into the game! And, by 20 seconds after the start of the second half I had removed my vintage Broncos t-shirt, throwing it in total disgust on the floor (uncharacteristic of me) and replaced it with my favorite yoga sweatshirt. You’d think the sweatshirt with one of my favorite yoga teachers logo on it would have somehow magically enveloped me in a cocoon of peaceful, loving serenity. Nope. Though I stopped watching the game, I could hear it from the kitchen. I kept throwing out an expletive or two as I listened to the game from the kitchen while preparing dinner. I’m chopping onions with an intent to kill.
Whoa Nelly I say! Not good!
I realize in that moment I seriously need to chill, memories of my encounter with the evil green mandoline are still fresh in my mind (the tip of my index finger still has no feeling folks!).
It’s just a stupid football game, I remind myself.
Rocket-man was even more animated. The Eagle Scout in him rarely uses inappropriate language. He too was becoming increasingly exasperated with the Broncos. He yelled at the T.V. for most of the game:
“Stop panicking.” “Get your heads into the game!” “Get the ball down the F-&$#! field!” ….and finally…more than once:
I Don’t get it. Denver was the highest scoring team in the history of the NFL during a regular season and now they are shut out in the first half?! Incredible.
I even lost interest in the Super Bowl commercials by the third quarter of the second half. And the half-time show? In my humble opinion Bruno Mars literally rocked it. He sizzled and sparkled in a lovely retro kind of way. It was thoroughly enjoyable….that is, until the Red Hot Chili Peppers (RHCP) came on the stage, all shirtless and screaming incomprehensible lyrics. I didn’t care for the Mars-RHCP teaming and it wasn’t because of the show of “aging” skin (RHCP’s front man Anthony Kiedis is 51 years old but you’d never know it, all that inking aside, if you know what I mean). He’s got nice muscles but he (and the rest of the band) should have kept their shirts on, in my humble opinion. Fashion-policing aside, I simply didn’t like the music.
So now this football season is officially over and folks I couldn’t be happier! I’m practically dancing the jig as I write these words. I get my Rocket-man back…sort-of; he’s gone again on business travel over the next two weeks. And, with any luck I’ll get a bit of my figure back (I’d be thrilled with just a five-pound loss) now that the chips, dips, cheeses, nuts, and other football food staples will be banned from the house.
Yes….there can definitely be a silver lining in the face of loss. There is bliss in that!