Besides two BORING teams (yawn); and besides the hours of pre-pre-pre-pre-game hype; and besides the fact that male athletes are the most overpaid, overindulged bunch of babies on the planet; while watching Sunday’s Super (?) Bowl, I found even more reasons to hate the game. (Of course, I was already biased because neither the Steelers nor the Niners were playing. Boo.)
(Future NFL Hall of Famer.)
#1. Stats: Who has the freakin’ time to research all the stats that are thrown at TV audiences? Most interceptions, total yards, most felonies, biggest tattoo, oldest grandma, best recipe for nachos–the TV announcers don’t. shut. the. hell. up. If Al Michaels threw out one more “this wide receiver spent the least amount of time doing homework” stat, I was going to throw my bowl of cheese dip at the TV.
#2. Overinflated Egos: Why does winning the Super Bowl make a team automatic WORLD Champions? While they’re at it, why not Intergalatically Undefeated? Or Universal Phenoms? How about next year the SB winner plays the Marvin Martian Marauders? (And didn’t the Giants LOSE 7 games during the season? Meh.)
(Oh, you have made me very angry! Very angry, indeed.)
#3. Boring Ads: Sequels abound. Not just in the movies but in the Super Bowl ads. Next year, no more talking babies, no monkeys at work and no more bikinis. And prohibition ads? Really, Budweiser? Ad execs, take a creative pill. (But I DID like watching John Stamos get a nasty head-butting. Hahahaha! I’ll eat yogurt just for that.)
#4. The Walk of Slime: Was anyone besides me bothered by the trophy walk where the old guy carried the SB trophy through a gantlet of Giants who fondled, kissed and worshiped the metal statue? I think one Giants player even French-kissed the thing. Very disturbing. And now the trophy carries millions of new germs. Thanks, New York.
#5. Half-Time Show: I admit it. Americans are hard to impress. Especially the sober ones. But Madonna seemed to shuffle through her performance (and not in the cool LMFAO way–in the Medicare way) and didn’t seem to have any energy. Granted, I’ve never had to perform a half-time show but I don’t think I’d end it with a church choir.