I don’t care about the Superbowl at all: An apology

February 3, 2013 at 2:47 pm (Stuff that Bugs Me Right Now) (, , )

It’s true. I don’t care about the Superbowl at all. I know it’s probably unpatriotic. Feel free to confiscate my miniature American flag.

Just give me a few last minutes alone with it, please.

Just give me a few last minutes alone with it, please.

Everyone I know watches the Superbowl. Even my parents do, and they don’t watch sports on TV at all.

Unless Judge Judy is a sport?

Unless Judge Judy is a sport?

Once, when I still worked at the newspaper, I got involved in the Superbowl pot at work. My friend in the sports department gave me a buck and chuckled a little when I turned in my form and explained my strategy: I picked the teams with the cooler names. For instance, if the Vikings were playing the Dolphins, I picked the Vikings. While Vikings are horrific bastards, dolphins are horrific-er bastards, so therein lies the logic.

See? Bastard.

See? Bastard.

And so, despite my rather illogical method, it came down to me and a photographer for the whole pot.

“You’ll have to watch the Superbowl now,” the sports department said.

“What, aren’t you guys going to have a headline about it tomorrow?” I wondered.

“Well, yes,” they said.

“Oh, good, because otherwise that would ruin my streak of not watching any sports except for the Olympics, which I really only watch for the patriotism in inspires in me.”

Wait! I take back that thing I said about confiscating my miniature flag! I need it for waving at the TV during the Olympics! Go, Team USA!

Wait! I take back that thing I said about confiscating my miniature flag! I need it for waving at the TV during the Olympics! Go, Team USA!

And later I won the pot.

The moral of the story is: If I don’t care about the Superbowl at all when there’s money on the line, what makes you think I can even remember who’s playing this year?

Anyway, I’m sorry or something.

Welp, that was a terrible apology. Whatever.

Welp, that was a terrible apology. Whatever.

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