Here’re the main things I took away from Superbowl Forty:
Some bozos on a political blog were mentioning how they were rooting for the Steelers because Pittsburgh’s such a blue-collar team, whereas any team from Seattle must be soft, a bunch of latte-sipping pansies. And I thought, you gotta be kidding me. The second-string kicker on the Seahawks would kick the living shit out of some lardass sitting his basement pontificating about FISA. And, yeah, I’m including myself in that group. Some folks have no perspective. When you’re talking about a "soft" NFL player, you’re talking about a guy who, if you ever actually met him, would likely be the toughest human being you’d ever known. So shut up. And get outta the basement.
Those idiots weren’t quite enough to get me to pull for Seattle. But they came close. Still, I’m mighty pleased for Bettis, Cowher, Rooney, Ward and the rest.
Roethlisberger is going to be a great quarterback for a long time, injuries permitting, but he didn’t get all the way into the endzone on that play. Not even freakin’ close.
What the hell is with clock management and the Superbowl? Is it that much tougher than the regular season? Two years in a row now the losing team has totally screwed it up. Bizarre.
The Rolling Stones suck live. They suck. Suck suck suckety suck. Sweet Jesu, they are the most overrated live band ever. They. Suck.
This was the first time in over ten years I’d watched any of the much-hyped Superbowl commercials. And, yeah, okay, they really were pretty good. But not good enough to keep me from channel-surfing at one point. Found 60 Minutes, which was doing a piece on Sting. Turns out ol’ Gordon Sumner earns $2000 a day in royalties. And that’s just on the song "Every Breath You Take." Wow. Showed a few clips of him with The Police. Amazing to remember when he used to be cool. Still, I’d take his easy-listening stuff over the Stones any day. Maybe that’s because They Suck.