You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s Crazy
Before the super game comes a tidal wave of super talk, super predictions, super pontifications.
Former players spew forth on everything from halftime show delays to pre game stretching.
It’s 8am. ESPN is on and it’s wall to wall.
It’s the type of coverage that CNN gave the 1st gulf war.
I expect General Norman Schwarkzopf to come busting through the stands riding in a Sherman Tank wearing shoulder pads and chewing through a mouthpiece.
This is the pinnacle of grid iron greatness.
Getting to Minnesota is only half the battle. Winning this monumental time stopping piece of history is what it’s about.
SUPERBOWL 52! OR LII as the Super Bowl likes to brand itself.
Steve Young just said that if Tom Brady wins his 6th superbowl, he will be lifted into sports pantheon with God Like athletes; Michael Jordan and Babe Ruth.
I think about the magnitude of that statement. It’s true. We may be watching history in action in 9 hours. My grand kids will watch Tom Brady throw TD passes like I watch black and white grainy footage of Babe Ruth swatting out of Yankee Stadium.
It’s not just ESPN and the NFL NETWORK covering the game. It’s not just Fox and CBS and NBC weighing in. It’s entertainment tonight and Jimmy Kimmel and Telemundo. This is a world wide sports tsunami.
What are the celebrities wearing? What are they eating? Whose doing whom?
SUPERBOWL PRE GAME: There will be segments on puppy’s shoving their faces into food bowls, choosing the superbowl winner. There will be packages on filling tacos and what’s the best ointment to cool jock itch
The superbowl is pre game segments about pregame segments.
It’s about fly overs and 21 gun salutes and hooting and hollering every hour on the hour.
It’s bump shots of the city, beauty shots of the stadium, crowd shots of the throng, it’s cheerleaders, hair dancing in slow motion.
The superbowl is a national holiday. It is Christmas without the tree. It’s Hanukah without the Gefilte fish. It’s Halloween with a 747 sized pumpkin dumping hot wings on your roof.
I just hung a Tom Brady sized stocking on my mantel and filled it with Doritos.
God Grant us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, to change the things we can and the wisdom to take the Eagles and the four points.
There are superbowl bets for most points, who scores first, whether Giselle will throw her iPhone at a Philly fan sporting a Tom Brady’s kid’s are pissants T-shirt.
Some Hall of Famers like Dan Marino and Jim Kelly never won a superbowl. Some hall of famers never played in a superbowl.
Tom Brady has been to 7. He’s won 5. It’s astounding.
The hype is on slow burn and the guacamole dip hasn’t even been made.
The Superbowl is super fun, super sexy, super hyped.
I’m going to stop writing now, so I can lather myself in a toxic brew of grid iron sexy. I’m going to pour a big beer and drop in a shot of exhilaration. I’m going to put on a sexy mu mu that let’s my private parts swing easily and merrily as I cheer for the greatest over hyped wonderment on Earth.
At least cover the spread.