We hype up our favorite bands; We critique on sports and cars; We opine about pop culture. On occasion, will do some creative writing. This is PATHOLOGICAL HATE.
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Dan tries a crack at displaying his poetic and literary skills as he shares his "passion" for the NFL title game tomorrow.
The Super Bowl is like having
sex with a random woman after a long drought, standards be damned! Sure
it’s been awhile and sometimes a good “Smurfing” is in order and it doesn't matter if my team is in it.
I'm excited about the Super Bowl
(hookup). And everything up until the kickoff is perfect: the candles
(buffalo wings) are roasting away, the wine (whiskey or beer) is on ice; it’s
going to be a good night.
The commercials (foreplay) are fun and we all have been checking our Square Cards
for the 1st Quarter (unhooking the bra) hoping to hit the jackpot, but that's
when it goes wrong. It's halftime and the game isn't close and I have to
watch some old rockers like the Rolling Stones bellow "Start Me Up"(Why is Mick Jagger prancing around like a kindergartner?—Ed)
for the millionth time because somehow Janet
Jackson's boobbie popped out
one time--one freaking time!--and now
we can't get any hot babes on stage (What about Beyonce?—Ed).
"You look like I need another drink." (photo courtesy of Felipe M.)
The food and liquor is at critical mass and I realized I've overindulged
(guess I’ll be joining Superman in hell) and now I'm in trouble as
the couch looks snug enough for a serene slumber as the food coma hits.
And like any random lay, it’s amazing how fast perspective changes.
Only 90 minutes ago she (theSuper Bowl) was this amazing treat and something I had
been waiting for, but now I just want her to go away (get thisbeat downover with).
Shame overtakes me now. This stupid
football game that I had been anticipating for a couple of weeks now, even
though my favorite team was not a participant, is just more attention being
given to the talking ESPN-headsso they can continue to spread their tall tales
and myths about player/coach/team legacies and recycle the rhetoric they had
been vomiting all week. The food, the drinks, the double entendres, and
the pandering, “expert” commentary makes me feel dirty all over.
My prediction for the Super Bowl? I'm going to feel soiled and blemished.
Especially if that deer-antler, muncher (the now morphed half-man, half-deer, Ray
Lewis—Ed) wins on Sunday....
Dan Bernstein’s wrote
an advice column on
watching the Super Bowl, where he essentially warns you to not attend any
party whatsoever as people tend to ruin the experience of the NFLChampionship Game. Donny
Rodriguez and Felipe M, on the
other hand, warns readers to know beforehand what exactly to expect at these Super Bowl parties and what you can do
to make best of the following situations.
Best Possible Move: You
and your buddy will both despondently glance at each other and take a swig of
your brew of choice. If you’re hoping
that more people who want to talk football come and rescue you, you will be
disappointed as women usually dominate these parties. If anything, more women who have not watched
a single game all season long will join in the Super Bowl commercial conversation,
which ultimately leads to Halftime Show
performances where about 5 minutes will be devoted to Beyonce and the rest of the night, they will be singing the praises of Brittney Spears and Madonna’slegendary
performances at this event. Hope this
party has plenty of your favorite beer.
I feel sorry if you’re stuck drinking Light beers.
Let me guess? They have nothing, but Lite Beer
at this party, huh? (photo courtesy of Gabe Ponce)
Scenario #2:
Guess what? The group of people who have
talked up a storm about the commercials and Halftime Shows are also waiting on
the Puppy Bowl. If you arrived early
because you did not want to miss the pregame narratives on how Ray
Lewis benefitted from ‘deer antler' spray pills(oxymoron?) to grow into a beautiful mammal, you’re out of luck
because these people want to watch a different kind of animal—puppies! So guess what you’ll be watching instead of
#52’s great fight from morphing into a woodland creature?
Best Possible Move:
Just watch the Puppy Bowl and continue to drink your light beer. 16 of those will get you drunk enough to
loosen you up and somewhat enjoy the casual fans’ dominating presence. Just don’t get too drunk that you actually
forget to tell someone to flip it to the damn game. Besides, can you really endure 1-2 hours of
“deer antler” references?
Scenario #3: As
you start watching some of these new commercials, in your drunken stupor, no
less, you are probably mildly exacerbated and indignant. You’re feeling that you are marching towards
a belligerent state. You can’t get there
quick enough because, again, you’re drinking nothing, but light beers. You’ll probably start thinking to yourself:
“these advertisers lack so much creativity. They’re literally just parrots, echoing what
we all say and think is funny or cool.
‘Oh wow, here’s a commercial with someone getting tackled; oooohhhh, here’s one where an animal is
talking; here’s one where a former celebrity attempts to resuscitate his/her
career; Nuh-huh, this one stars a black guy you’ve never seen in real life
outside of Wicker Park. Sort of like this guy’”:
Best Possible Move: Just
remind yourself that if you wanted to help in producing these commercials, you
would have majored in Business/Marketing/Advertising instead of earning your phony,
Liberal Arts degree from Gudger College. Just remind yourself to breathe and keep
drinking your light beer. After 1 hour
of pregame ceremonies and a 6 minute rendition of the National Anthem, they will eventually begin the coin toss. Look at the bright side: you’re only an hour
away from a 50/50 chance of winning a prop bet.
Hello, Donny? Some of us are still living
that fantasy football season. (photo courtesy of Felipe M.)
Scenario #4: You
finally made it to your 12th lite beer (a whole case? Congratulations!) and you finally got a good
buzz going. Unfortunately, the game is a
snooze-fest as both teams are playing ridiculously conservative and both
quarterbacks are proving to be more inaccurate than an unclean AK-47. Heck, even that girl who was irritating you
with all her talk of commercials is starting to look kind of cute. And she even seems sort of cool too. So what if she doesn't care about the Super
Bowl? Your fantasy football season has
been over for six weeks and you could care less which slot receiver caught the
ball (Was it Anquan Crabtree or Jacoby Ginn Jr.?). You have no rooting interest and you have no
shot at winning any squares. Maybe, just
maybe, you too don’t care about the game, just like the girl whose only
interest is the glitzy commercials.
Best Possible Move:
Hello? There’s only one move to pull
here. During—err, scratch that—before halftime, you might want to start
calling her out about her “unnatural obsession” with these ads. While you’re at it, give her the business
about the Puppy Bowl and the upcoming Beyonce, lip-synching extravaganza that
should start in about—hmmm, let’s see, they’re in the 2 minute warning—1 hour
or so. Why pick on her like an
elementary schoolchild? Nonsense! This is the 21st century,
guy! If there’s a better way to flirt
with someone of the opposite sex, I would love to hear all about it…
Scenario #5: I
guess at this point, we should probably mention something about the game. You’re probably nearing your 20th
lite beer of the evening, but with all the food available to you, the beer is
having no effect on you. It’s like your
drinking water at this point. That means
you should be coherent enough to pay attention to the game. You’ll see the following events occur in this
game:
Ray Rice has just
as many receiving yards as rushing yards.
Randy Moss proves
he’s the “best Wide Receiver in the game” by making two catches on three
targets for 24 yards.
The 4th quarter comes down to the final drive,
but you are apathetic at this juncture of the game.
Why? Well, the Super
Bowl, unless your hometown team is participating, is just a time to get
together with those you hold dear and watch football for the last time until
September. It’s like Christmas or Thanksgiving, but without the awkwardness that only certain family
members bring: because you can actually be more selective in terms of whom you
want to see at the Super Bowl party.
You’re not forced to tolerate anyone at these festivities. Ok, you do have to tolerate the game and the
players who constantly point to the sky as if divine intervention stepped in
and helped them win the football game.
Just one more drive is holding you back from putting this God-forsaken
season in the books and getting out of this party so you can drive home and go
to sleep because you have to get ready for work on Monday.
Best Possible Move: Again,
remember to breathe, and as the game dwindles down, start game-planning how
you’re going to plan your goodbyes. Try
to time your exit to sync up with that one girl who likes the
commercials. You probably have a good
shot at getting her phone number. Who
knows, you might go to a sports bar next Friday where both of you are sipping
your drinks rather bunglingly for an hour as both of you stare at the
establishment’s flat screen. And in
between conversations, both of you will watch the commercials and you will
think to yourself, “I’m really glad I went to that Super Bowl party.”