Super Bowl Sunday

When I was a kid growing up in Mahopac, N.Y., Super Bowl Sunday was one of my favorite days of the year. Yes, I loved the game. And sure, it was cool having Scott Choy and John Ballerini and Jon Powell and the gang come over for pizza, soda and the big game. But the best—absolute best—part of Super Bowl Sunday was that, leading up to the game, you could always find a channel that showed the NFL Film highlight videos from the past events.

Man, I looooooooooooove those films. Doesn’t matter if the games were superb (Super Bowl III) or blowouts (Super Bowl XX). I love the slow motion; the deep voice; the classical music as footballs soar through the air. This was long before I covered sports for a living, and it all seemed so regal and elegant. At that point, I’d never had an athlete fart in my face or tell me to go bite myself. They were gladiators, and nothing else. Terry Bradshaw. Wendell Tyler. Kenny King. Joe Montana. John Riggins. The names go on and on, and they evoke something truly special in my mind.

Now, the videos have been largely shelved.

My day ain’t the same.

4 thoughts on “Super Bowl Sunday”

  1. Note how it’s considered noteworthy that the Raiders had 14 new players that season … you know it was before the salary-cap era!

    Love the quote from the John “O.W. Meadows” Matuszak that he knew Ron Jaworski wore English Leather.

  2. Thoughts on the Super Bowl:

    * Hopefully, The Who ended all the nostalgia bands. I’d bet the FCC would rather see 1,000 nipples than Pete Townshend on the verge of a stroke.

    * Now women’s groups are saying that the tackle in the Tebow ad — where he playfully tackles his mother — is a sign of violence against women. These idiots will set the women’s movement back 1,000 years.

    * Apparently, women’s groups aren’t saying anything about the Go Daddy ads with Danica Patrick, or the misogyny of the Bud Light commercials. Women’s groups don’t care about anything except abortion. Shut up, women’s groups. When you’re done, shut up some more.

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