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My Super Superbowl

Congratulations and condolences are in order for Stampede Blue's Colts and Windy City Gridiron's Bears respectively. Although those are qualified condolences as I would remind WCG that to lose in the Superbowl is a privilege many fans, like me, would relish.

I try as best I can to keep this blog Redskins topical and stray from posting my own boring life. That said, the Superbowl is as much a cultural phenomenon as it is merely a Football Game and I will err just this once in recounting my own gameday experience. Perhaps this will encourage my reader(s) to comment likewise.

I joined in the great American Tradition of making Superbowl viewing a priority over work, calling in late this morning. I probably should have just taken the entire day off, as I am dragging.

Anyways, here is how I rolled. I'm of the age and economic worth(lessness) where not only am I poor and useless but virtually all of my friends are as well (in this instance "virtually all" should be interpreted as "all but two"). My girlfriend and I were graciously invited to a Superbowl party at an actual home where some friends of ours inexplicably put together enough money and sense to purchase quality non-disposable furniture. How I haven't the foggiest, they probably sell heroin or something.

The game itself wasn't all that enthralling, except for Devin Hester's opening touchdown, which was a predictable thing of beauty. Otherwise the game was relatively unfascinating, to me at least, as I spent most of my time reaquainting myself with an old forgotten friend. That old forgotten friend was Keg Beer Brand Beer and it was delicious.

We were all some years removed from the Socially Acceptable form of Alcoholism sometimes called College, and so draining the delicious Keg Beer Brand Beer wasn't nearly as easy as I'd have thought. As I live in a perpetual state of being "that guy", naturally I forced my girlfriend to stay at the house long after the Superbowl had played itself out and all the other socially aware (and perhaps coherent) guests politely retired for the evening. So here's the setup: an intoxicated Skin Patrol is being baby-sat by his girlfriend amongst a group of only the most intoxicated males after much grunting and Footballery and all that sweet cheddar.

About 65 million years ago the Chicxulub meteor struck Mother Earth with a force large enough to create the Yucatan Peninsula. I mention that fact only to illustrate an immutable law of nature, that when mass meets mass collisions just kind of happen.

Some social phenomena are similarily predetermined by immutable laws, one of which being that when male egos are presented with delicious Keg Beer Brand Beer then recklessness just kind of happens. And that recklessness increases in scope and likelihood with the passing of time and consumption. Fortunately this was not one of those cases where something truly regrettable happens, such as peeing oneself or too eagerly jumping on a grenade. Instead we collectively decided that Keg Stands were in order and your intrepid pioneer of a adventurous dimwitted host cheerfully volunteered for first watch.

I'd always classified Keg Stands with Bicycles in that I always imagined that one never forgets how to do either. I vaguely remember, whilst being hoisted over a delicious Keg of Keg Beer Brand Beer, how totally comfortable and familiar that position was. So surprised I was, then, that someone had frozen the damn beer and that I could not stay on that keg for nearly as long as I thought and jeez was it coming at me faster than I could drink it. I was emasculated, though thankfully not nearly as much as my poor effort deserved, further when everyone outdid Skin Patrol (although all would later admit that someone had in fact frozen the beer).

There is a life lesson here. Although Skin Patrol was never particularly great at Keg Stands, frozen or otherwise, he at least remembers being better than last night's awful showing. Like most of life's pursuits, binge drinking is done best when practiced early and often. Years removed from competetive drinking, I just didn't have it in me to consume manly portions of delicious Keg Beer Brand Beer (frozen, in this case) and thus made a total ass of myself. The moral of the story is practice makes perfect alcoholism and recklesness are endearing traits.

So how was your Superbowl?