Truth be told, I'm not a huge fan of the Super Bowl. While I've been fortunate enough to have experienced two Giants Super Bowl victories in the last five years, I spent those games watching with a close group of blue-clad New York fans, focusing on the action as actively as I would any other big game. When the Giants aren't in the big game, however, it's been a whole different story. In those years I've elected to do what any good American is supposed to do on Super Bowl Sunday - go to a party with friends, pretend to watch the game and leave with more memories of the the E-Trade baby than of the game itself.
For the most part, I'm fine with this. I spend the fall and winter watching dozens of NFL and NCAA football games, so it's not like I'm desperate for gridiron action. I also realize, and on some level appreciate, the fact that the Super Bowl is much more than a sporting event - it has evolved into a pseudo national holiday that brings people together for not only a football game, but for a halftime show, a handful of clever (and a ton of not-so-clever) ad campaigns and some Papa John's pizza. I actually enjoy Super Bowl parties the most when there's virtually no talk about football - like most normal-ish people I like to see friends, eat some wings and socialize, and the NFL's championship game is as good a reason as any to get people together.
Ironically, it's the football part of any Super Bowl Sunday that frustrates me the most. For the same reason that I really dislike going out on New Year's Eve - every restaurant and bar is filled with a ton of people who haven't been out in a year, can't control themselves and turn things into Amateur Night - I take issue with Super Bowl parties. For too many guys in particular, the Super Bowl is the one time a year to try to impress their buddies and girls with their knowledge of NFL football. The problem with these guys is that 90% of them have no idea what they're talking about. Of course, there's nothing wrong with not following the NFL (OK, there's something a little wrong with it, but nothing overly serious), but I draw the line at having to listen to these "fans" spend four hours spewing incorrect football-related information.
In my experience, the types of Super Bowl Sunday B.S. fall into three main categories. The first, and least offensive, is what I call the "Ridiculous Opinion." While everyone's entitled to their own opinion, of course, no real football fan wants to hear some meathead argue that Joe Flacco is a Top Five quarterback. The Ridiculous Opinion is often (although not always, if you're lucky) followed up with some "Terrible Logic," the second type of Super Bowl nonsense: "Of course Joe Flacco's a Top Five QB - he's the quarterback of one of only two Super Bowl teams, isn't he?" If a debate follows the Terrible Logic, you're likely to move into the third and most infuriating phase - the "Imaginary Statistic." Despite the presence of a roomful of internet-connected devices with fact-checking ability, you're bound to hear someone quote a stat that's completely false. What better way to settle the Flacco debate than to note that Flacco had the third most completions in the NFL this season, even if it's not true?
For us real football fans, it's tempting to get involved in these arguments. It often seems like a good idea to refute a Ridiculous Opinion, break down some Terrible Logic and correct an Imaginary Statistic. Take it from me, though - it's not worth it. There's no way to win one of these patented Super Bowl Sunday arguments with a faux-fan, because the normal debate skills like intelligence, knowledge and rationality won't help you. If you want to give yourself a chance at enjoying Super Bowl Sunday, ignore the football and go for the food and the friends. And if you feel compelled to evesdrop on some conversation, you'd be best off listening to what the E-Trade baby has to say.
1 comment:
Excellent points here. I took it for granted that everyone knows to automatically tune these out. I'm just shocked that your buddies' girlfriends were paying enough attention to even ask a question . . .
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