Monday, February 02, 2004
| Super Bowl Sunday - 2003/2004 |
The Sunday Afternoon Smorgasbord comes to you live from the apartment of my homies, Chris and Lady E. I'm not going to lie to you... it's not going to be the same. It's not like the sports bar. There are no random loser Eagle fans, my girlfriend, despite our relationship having returned to a state of constant and insatiable burning sexual deviance, will not be here. And sadly, it would take an extraordinary set of coincidences for there to be any hope of Crazy Fish Guy making an appearance today. But still... we've got a solid cast, Danks, of course is in the house wearing a Ty Law jersey. Chris and AJ are here, and so is my man Nate.
If you're not a frequent reader, you might not know... there are many reasons why I hate the Super Bowl. I hate the fact that the NFL goes out of its way to make the Super Bowl appealing to people who could care less about football. I hate the celebration of the commercials, I hate just about everything that surrounds this game... I'm sure you'll catch on as we go, but I thought I should warn you.
The pre-game masturbation is one of the things that annoys me to no end, so at 6 o'clock... we're switching back and forth between the Professional Bowlers Association, ice dancing, and dirtbike racing. Nate's actually a dirtbike racer. I am actually an ice dancer.
Due to the unfortunate insistence of someone else present, I do see some of Beyonce's national anthem. Attractive woman. Other than that particular aspect, however, I feel confident in saying that if you enjoyed any of the pre-game festivities, we can't ever hang out. I'm sorry. It has to be that way.
Hey, it looks like they got Harry Carey to do the opening coin toss. What a coup for CBS.
Two scrubs bound for the World League try to start a fight on the opening kick-off... I'm sure the coaches love to see that sort of thing. You got your TV time, scrubs, please go back to the sidelines now and get bitched at on the biggest day of your professional career.
Tom Brady, on the first play from scrimmage for the Patriots, throws the ball longer than four yards. Brilliant tactic by Bill Belichick. On the first play of the game, do something that no one has ever seen before.
Troy Brown suffers a broken nose. The good news for the Patriots is that they are well-stocked up on back-up Troy Browns.
Vinatieri shanks a short field goal attempt... that's gotta be a very encouraging sign for the Panthers.
Commercial comment: If you are one of the poor souls in the world who think the Dodge Magnum is going to help you solve the terrible problem of not being able to find a car that's both cool and family-oriented... you are a loser. As my own special public service announcement, please know that no car is cool when your whining little bastard of a child is in a car seat next to you soiling himself. You are now a parent. The time in your life when having a cool car could get you laid should now be over. Accept it.
I also just want to clarify that I am not one of the people that gets off on Super Bowl commercials. Anyone who's ever uttered the sentence "I just watch for the commercials!" should not be allowed to watch the game. They are not fans, and they should offend you, as a football fan. But I'm watching the game, they're on, and I've been bitching about commercials all year... so I'm not going to stop now.
The Panthers D-Line, as expected, is looking frighteningly good. The Patriots counter not with stellar offensive line play, but pass patterns that take less than a full second to complete. Quite effective.
Boomer is recommending that Carolina run some screen plays, but my man Chris makes a valid point. If any defense in the world is prepared to stop the short pass, would it not be the team that practices against the King of the Dink Pass on a daily basis?
Danks is biting his nails... not like normal people sometimes bite their nails, but... I dunno, he looks like a depraved jungle animal that's attempting to gnaw off his arm because it's caught under a tree.
Chris suggests that the Panthers air one out deep... to Rae Carruth. "Really, really deep," I add. "All the way to cell-block five." I wouldn't want Rae to have to leave the yard to try and catch it and then get put on laundry duty all week.
Commercial comment: Mike Ditka ripping baseball... that's not bad. If I didn't feel like Mike Ditka was a corporate whore who would do anything for a dollar, I'd like it even more, but still... not bad. If you missed it, Ditka compared briefly football and baseball and said, "Baseball needs Levitra." He then added, "Except that Tadano guy in the Indians minor league system. I've seen the video. Believe me, no Levitra necessary."
Thus far, the game is a field position battle, with a lot of run-stuffing and solid defense... and I'm sure that a lot of people around the world are saying it's a very boring game. But if you really like football, you've got no problem with how the game's gone so far. Some games are like this. It's tough, it's physical, and it's close... and it's probably going to be close at the end. Can't ask for a lot more.
The Patriots recover a fumble, taking over near midfield... Danks briefly wigs out. Chris's comment of "Alright, go ahead, miss another field goal" has a way of quickly taking the wind from his sails.
Patriots owner Bob Kraft gives high-fives like a little girl. I'm pretty sure that no one's going to mistake him for Rodney Harrison. It's like his hands are made of glass and he's afraid the old woman next to him is going to break them. Elissa refers to them as "old white high-fives."
Jake Delhomme catches fire, and it's 7-all. Steve Smith's endzone celebration is vaguely reminiscent of Frank the Tank's little dance in at the party in Old School.
Danks's roommate Rich shows up at about this time, the front of his pants covered in grease. The establishment at which he works stuck him in the kitchen today, and his pants are ruined. But I'm glad he's here... I'm always tired of being the only one in the room with an oily crotch.
The Patriots respond with a touchdown drive of their own that featured two blatant holds ignored by Ed Hochuli and his posse. Just thought I'd mention it.
Hey, if the guy who threw something at Jim Nantz at halftime happens to be reading... major props, dude. Nantzy was pissed.
How the halftime show ended... you saw it. I didn't think it was possible, but Kid Rock was not the embarrassing low point of the halftime show. That's what it's come to in America. The people that we have chosen to be the most popular put their minds together, and the big, strong, artistic, creative finish that they came up with... was a titty. That is how we best choose to entertain the people of America, be they 6-year-old girls or horny old men. In America, titties... are our big finish. I am ashamed to be a part of this culture now. Seriously. I'm depressed.
I missed the first three and a half minutes of the second half because of what just happened. I can't pull it together.
Alright... there's no sense in keeping it from you. I am now stoned as fuck. I am as high as a giraffe's ass. It's the only way I'm making it through the rest of this game.
And the Pats come out and make it 21-10. At this point, it's necessary that the Panthers keep it close. Otherwise... no one's going home happy except for Danks, and something about seeing Danks happy makes me even less happy.
And DeShaun Foster comes to the rescue, breaking off an extremely manly run. Going for two right there, however, was absurd. I think it might have been a little Super Bowl panic on the part of John Fox. If it was an October game against Minnesota, does he do that? With that much time left? I doubt it. If this was the NBA, he'd get fired for that.
After 57 consecutive commercials featuring sex in some way, Elissa announces that she's moving to Canada. I suggest that Canada isn't far enough. AJ chimes in with, "In Amsterdam, you can turn on the TV and see a girl getting drilled by two guys at two in the afternoon."
Meanwhile, every sentence I try to utter is an adventure. My brain and my mouth are just not collaborating very effectively. "They Ted Washington fullback twice down rush once halftime before." - MJD
Touchdown Panthers. Danks's grip on sanity is slowly slipping away. Without any provocation whatsoever, he turns to the room and announces, "Hey, I'm not gonna bitch. Because I'M NOT A PUSSY."
Y'know, if you have to go out of way to make it known that you aren't a pussy, well... chances are... you just might be.
Rich theorizes that the 'R' on Ed Hochuli's jersey stands for 'ripped.' I don't have any concrete reasons for it, but I've got the feeling that Ed Hochuli is a dick. I dunno.
Danks leaves the room for a minute to have a smoke in the garage, and Elissa is afraid for his emotional well-being. She's seriously concerned. I just think he's a pussy.
With 5:21 to play, Danks pretty much abandons all human communication.
This, I feel confident in saying... is a great football game. I'm glad I chose last year's Super Bowl to boycott instead of this one. In fact, I'm prepared to say that this is the best Super Bowl game of my adult life, despite the fact that my Chargers did play in the Super Bowl in 1995. That game was exciting for about... well, until about kickoff.
Ricky Proehl comes up big... 29-all. This game rules. Except for the fact that the Panthers left too much time on the clock.
Troy Brown commits an incredibly silly pass interference penalty that ruined a great throw by Tom Brady (that traveled even longer than 10 yards, mind you), but then turns around on the next play and makes an outstanding catch. Props to Troy Brown.
And here comes Vinatieri to win it... and I know before he even takes the field that this is going on. The sick feeling in my stomach confirms it. I did not want this game to end on another Adam Vinatieri field goal... he's already been a Super Bowl hero. I don't need to see any more kicker-worship. Unfortunately, he is money... and the game is over. But Rich made a good point, it would also suck very much to see this game end on an unfair one-possession overtime. Perhaps this was best.
Danks is happy. That's good. That's a silver-lining. If it was my team winning the Super Bowl, I'd be outside in the parking lot, sliding naked face down along the ice and offering my first born child to Alex Spanos, but... Danks goes the more reserved and tasteful route. Kinda fucking irks me.
And that's it. This football season is over. That's just... it's an odd feeling. I miss football when it's gone... and as much as I don't wanna see Tom Brady and his N'Sync facial hair hugging the Super Bowl trophy, changing the channel right now means turning my back on any football-related activities for the next few months... it's conflicting. It's like the last day of vacation, or Christmas night. What you just experienced was outstanding, and you don't want it to end... but it's going away, leaving you sad and frustrated for a very long time, and there's nothing you can do about it. A hooker demanding payment also brings about a similar feeling.
And with the conclusion of football season... comes the conclusion of the Smorgasbord. Depending on circumstance, I'm planning on doing it next year, and in the meantime... we'll have some other cool stuff for you. So I hope you've enjoyed. Peace.
...posted by the mighty mjd
@ 2:54 PM 0 comments
