Five Superbowl Moments

It's not that I'm not a football fan. I really, really am. I grew up in Pittsburgh, and I practically bleed black and gold. I spend every Sunday during football season in front of the TV watching games, I had a fantasy team this past season, and I read Peter King's Monday Morning Quarterback column religiously.

When I turn on the Superbowl I'm not thinking about commercials and halftime shows. I'm thinking about football. I actually like to watch the game, whether the Steelers are in or not.

But last night's game was something else entirely.

I was pumped before kickoff. Since the game was in New Jersey, media week was centered in Times Square, a mere 8 blocks from my office, so there was a buzz in the air all week. There were players and celebrities roaming the streets of midtown, and during the hours of pre-game I watched on Sunday the landmarks captured by the areal coverage were ones that I see every day.

I made dinner, and parked myself in front of the TV for what was billed as a showdown of the number one offence and the number one defense in the league, battling it out for the Lombardi trophy. Except it wasn't that. Not at all. By the end of the first quarter I was bored. By the end of the first half I was contemplating going to sleep and skipping the rest of the game.

But the thought of going to sleep and missing something epic like last year's blackout, or Peyton Manning staging some kind of miraculous comeback kept me wide awake. Because there is almost nothing I hate more than missing out on a pop-culture event and having to read about it the next morning. I like my pop culture live, thank you very much.

Well, nothing like that happened. The Broncos never came back. The commercials weren't that great (except for this one, which is brilliant), The Seahawks flew themselves to victory. People got mad that public transportation was crowded. There was an amusing sign on the stadium scoreboard asking people to stay in the stadium until the New Jersey Transit station platforms had cleared off.

So, Superbowl 38 is in the books. What will I remember from the game? Probably not much.

Well, a few things.

Like these.

Guys, 24 is coming back. Did you hear the clock?

Jack. Chloe.

#JackIsBack. Can. Not. Wait.

How can I become the person who looks up these arcane facts?

Poor, sad Peyton Manning (said in the drippingly sarcastic tones of a
Steelers fan born and bred to loathe the Mannings and everything
about them)