This is a photograph of Cousin Todd.
Cousin Todd came to the house tonight to watch Giants-49ers. He was wearing this strange New York Giants Mexican robe, purchased by one of his brothers as a gift south of the border.
Todd is my kind of guy. Funny, sharp, opinionated. However, I’m usually not one to scream at the television while watching sports. Oh, there are moments. But, generally, I like to quietly absorb the game. I actually dislike Super Bowl parties, because they tend to result in lots of oohs and aahs and uninformed comments from my sister-in-law, along the lines of, “Is Phil Simms still coaching the Jets?”
Todd, however, added something to the house. The first half was sorta dry, but Todd was lively and intense. He called the Giants’ plays, spoke at Brandon Jacobs as if he were a long-lost cousin, pleaded for the 49ers defense to collapse. I asked Todd, a fellow liberal, whether he’d take a Big Blue Super Bowl victory in exchange for the Mitt Romney presidency—and he said yes.
Without flinching.
