Super Giant Sunday

Never any Doubt…Right?

So after two weeks of endless stories, talk and every other sort of hype that can be manufactured or made up, the NY Football Giants will finally take the field opposite the New England Patriots in Super Bowl XLVI, which is very hard to pronounce. 

When I say it, it come out as “Super Bowl Exlavie”, which to me sounds like some sort of…well like some sort of something I’d rather not mention.

And once the Giants do take the field, they’ll probably have to give it right back, because I’m guessing the baggage  fees for checking something that large has to be prohibitive plus without it “Super Bowl Exlavie” would have to be played on some sort of a concrete slab, which, now that I think of it, might be pretty interesting.

Or as interesting as the last two weeks of football dissection and interlocution, which is just a complicated way of saying “talking about the game”.  Complicated being the key word here, because the more complicated we can make the game seem with analysis of zone defenses vs. man coverage, anticipated breakdowns in the secondary and 3 or 4 man fronts, the smarter we feel when we finally sit down to watch it with our friends, where we basically break down the game into a series of grunts, shouts and screams such as “THROW IT…CATCH IT…RUN…and the ever popular…HIT HIM!”

You’re also likely to hear other insightful comments during the actual game such as “Real Cheetos are so much better than the store brand Cheetos” and “I think there’s something alive in the dip.”

So much for complicated.

I have to admit that I was one of those people, along with a lot of you, who had written the Giants off after the loss to the Redskins.  Not the Dec. 18^th loss to the Redskins …the Sept. 11^th loss to the Redskins, the first game of the season.

Yeah…kind of shortsighted, I know.

But here they are…“Super Bowl Exlavie” and here I am, right on the front of the band wagon, nursing that groin muscle I pulled in my haste to hop on before anyone could catch me.

But I’m pretty sure I’ll be good to go by game time.

Every year it’s been a tradition for all of us to gather at our friends Mike and Kathy’s house to do our Super Bowling.  It took Mike and Kathy about 5 years to realize this had actually become our tradition before they finally started showing up themselves.  Now, Kathy even puts on a pretty big shindig complete with first class munchies followed by an extravagant half time spread…and Mike makes sure no one sits in his chair.

Most years, no one really cares who wins, so there’s lots of chit chat about what taboo body part is most likely to be exposed during the half time extravaganza, but, as we all know, they’ve really cracked down on that sort of thing ever since that tawdry incident with “Up With People” back in the 70’s.

There’s also a lot of discussion about all the BIG commercials that showcase themselves for a cool $3.5 Million per thirty second spot.  It’s gotten to the point that a lot of folks only pay attention when the commercials come on and I understand it’s taken quite a load off of the water company who used to report a serious decline in water pressure at the breaks.

This year they’re not anticipating a massive drain on the system until Madonna takes the stage at half time.  They figure most young people won’t know or care who Madonna is and most older people won’t remember, let alone care who she is…so be warned.

Of course we also spice things up by putting together our own little football pool, which of course is for “entertainment purposes” only. 

The first year we put our pool together was somewhat confusing because it took us ‘til the third quarter to realize we had neglected to designate which column was for what team…so they made me give back the money.  But up to that point I was definitely on a hot streak.

My friend Phil always comes armed with about a dozen various pools he’s bought into and spends much of the time calculating that if the punter pins them deep, and the quarter back is sacked in the end zone for a safety, and the return man on the ensuing free kick goes all the way for a TD, and the place kicker trips on his untied shoe lace and misses the extra point…he could win a gazillion dollars. 

The most annoying thing is half the time he’s usually right, wins a gazillion dollars…but has yet to buy any of us lunch.

Anyway, that’s a normal Super Bowl, when no one has a horse in the race.  This year is different. This year the Giants are in it to win it and so are we.  Well, except for that one annoying person who always picks against the home team just to be, well…annoying. Usually that’s me, but only when it’s the Yankees, and since the Yankees haven’t been able to buy themselves an NFL conference championship…yet… I’ll be pulling for the Giants too. 

I know it’s hard for New Yorkers to root against Patriots’ coach, Bill Belichick’s playful personality and fine taste in menswear, but how can you not root for Eli, who constantly looks bewildered, yet somehow manages to elude 3 or 4 pursuers late in the 4^th quarter, with everything on the line, then throws a miracle down the field for a touch down?

At least that’s what Z, who loves Eli, told me.  She said she’s always been drawn to guys who go through life looking confused and bewildered.

Wait…what?