Table d' hote: Snoozer Bowl

Wade McIntyre
Wade McIntyre

What I don’t know about the Super Bowl would fill a book.

Still, the urge to write about this flatulent, overrated entertainment spectacle is irresistible.

Maybe it is because so many people get a kick walking around and claiming that everyone is watching the Super Bowl. If you subscribe to the conventional wisdom, even people who do not like football watch the big game because they enjoy being entertained by commercials, or they like the camaraderie of other people who like football and commercials mixed in with a bloated half-time show.

Let’s clear up this misnomer. Everyone does not watch the Super Bowl. There are still ballerinas and opera fans in America, and lots of people have to make and deliver the game day pizzas.

There are probably a few hospital emergency rooms open for business as well.

Even non-fans celebrate Super Bowl Sunday, said sportscaster Al Michaels in a Parade Magazine interview.

According to Michaels, “Are you going to be the odd duck who says, ‘No, I want to go to the movies.’”

Yeah, Al, I am.

I learned in the fourth grade not to give in to peer pressure from talking head sportscasters.

I often go to the movies instead of watching the Stupor Bowl.

This would be a perfect year to go see James Bond in “Quantum Solace” for the third time, then further spike my testosterone levels by cooking up a frozen pizza at home while watching a Stephen Segal movie, and later catching a “Dirty Harry” flick.

Not that I have not watched a Super Bowl before. In the days before steroids and the outlawing of clothesline tackling, when football players were truly animals, I saw Joe Namath and the Jets topple the Baltimore Colts in the most famous David and Goliath game ever.

That was football for the ages. Unfortunately, games for the next two decades were so boring nobody ever watched the second half.

I remember being dragged to a politician’s Super Bowl party when “Refrigerator” Perry and Jim McMahon and Walter Payton were playing. It turned out to be a fun party, but everyone said that game was over in the first quarter.

For a while I was a Denver Bronco fan and excited about the first Super Bowl game they won.

People called John Elway a loser because he made it to the finals many times, but had never won a Super Bowl ring. I decided to take up for the Broncos.

I went around telling everyone I was going to leave America and move to Tibet if the Broncos did not win the game.

In Joe Namath style, I predicted the underdog Broncos would win. “I guarantee it,” I said.

A few people said they wanted to see the Broncos lose again, just so I would have to move to Tibet and become a monk. I had a lot at stake that year, and really sweated as the Broncos eked out the win.

I haven’t watched a Super Bowl game since.

I would have if the Saints had made it to the Super Bowl the year Deuce McAllister drug the pile during a playoff game when New Orleans was struggling back after Katrina.

When the Saints finally do make the big game, I’ll join everyone and watch.

My prediction for the big game, no matter who the Saints play?

The Saints will win. I guarantee it.