Super Bowl LIV

February 3, 2020

Greetings from the coin toss,

As part of my evolution as a human, I decided in 2020 to become more involved in sports.  I don’t mean playing them, that’s going a bit far.  I mean talking about them with other people who don’t play sports.

This requires a level of dedication heretofore I have eschewed.  (Pause here and admire my use of two archaic words in one sentence.)  Nevertheless, I am undaunted.  On January 1, I made a pledge to not only watch the Super Bowl but be fully engaged.

No more post game analysis of the commercials or waking during half time wondering what has-been had just overperformed for their ten minutes of shame.  No more leaving during a play review to put a load of laundry in the dryer and forgetting to come back until the last quarter.  This time it’s serious. 

This year of 2’s and O’s will be accented with X’s and O’s, studying game strategy, watching sports analysis of games, actually learning the rules of each competitive discipline.  I’m going all out.  Tennis, baseball, curling, basketball, luge, whatever is on ESPN, I am espying.  (Can’t help but point out another clever use of a totally underused verb there.)  But to kick things off, it’s the Super Bowl. (Already practicing my sports metaphors.)

You have to be impressed with Super Bowl LIV, which is the new clever branding for the game, finally giving up that annoying Roman numeral thing.  Of course it would be live, what else?  Well except for the replays, which are actually my favorite part.

I decided to take the San Francisco 49ers in this match up.  In part because I prefer the complex architecture in San Francisco, versus the somewhat mundane display of midwestern style in Kansas City. That, and KC hasn't been to a Superbowl in L years.  Plus San Francisco has Jimmy Garoppolo at quarterback.  While his record is less than impressive, anyone would have to admit his name has a certain rhythmic cadence that is irresistible.

I did a little research on the competing teams, examined strategies, watched videos of some of their games, read the stats on each, and of course consulted whatever Vegas has to say about the likely winner.  Then, using my Ouija board and a quarter to toss, I made my choice for my team.  San Fran.   

I’m told that this year advertisers will have to shell out $5.6 million for a 30 second ad that no one will be able to pair with a brand afterwards.  This is up half a million dollars from the 30 second ads we have forgotten from last year. 

Marketing sarcasm aside, I have taken my game prep seriously.  Avacados.  Favorite adult beverage.  Oversized bag of chip crumbs.  Team colors somehow included in wardrobe.  Check.

While I have no idea how one actually makes a bet, I would love to put money down on the game, or more specifically, bet on how long it will take Demi Lovato to sing the national anthem.  I timed it in the shower yesterday and, even holding a dramatic ‘land of the free’, I got it done under 1:59.  I’m betting big Demi will score early.  None of that last sentence was meant to be taken literally, since Demi will not actually be in the game, and I don’t have a bookie.

All of this is to finally make my place in the American tableau as a sports enthusiast.  I have tried in the past, I’ll admit, with miserable results.  But I long to be in the camps of those who know team coaches and who was traded for whom, and what ‘draft pick’ means.  At parties, surrounded by men who can name all the NFL players and the new rules to protect them from too much violence, I am a charlatan, a veritable sports quisling attempting to pass as a true fan.

But no more.

I plan to leave work early today, get in a pregame nap, waking as dusk takes shape around Hard Rock stadium.  Otherwise I know that by the time Shakira and J Lo take the field at half time I will be fading, and I want to be fresh for the climactic battle of the two teams in the second half.  I will become a part of the Monday Night Football tradition.

Whatever the outcome, I will be scribbling stats and memorizing plays so that come Tuesday morning I will fit in with the most dedicated football maven.  I will be leaning on the water cooler (figuratively speaking since we serve bottled water at work) and trading playful punches with my coworkers as we all regale each other with the sacks and fumbles, peppering our sentences with euphemisms and metaphors, and of course saying ‘Jimmy Garoppolo’ because it really does just roll off the tongue.  Seriously, say it.

Hope this finds you pacing the sidelines,

David

Copyright © 2019 David Smith