I am writing to commemorate the fact that I watched the Super Bowl last night. And even if maybe I can’t say that I enjoyed it so much that this will become a regular part of my life, I can say it’s the first time I actually paid attention to a sporting event and understood what was going on.
I’ve heard it said that women, if interested in keeping their men, should learn about sports. To me, sports always reminded me of studying for the LSATs — I could be good at it if I studied really hard, but it really was never for me. So anyhoo, they say that the way into sports for most women is learning the life story of athletes. — i.e., whom they’re married to, their family history, any personal struggles — so that they relate to the helmuted people on the field and become more invested in the action.
I think that’s mildly, I dunno, sexist or something? I don’t think athletes are inherently that interesting as people, but what’s interesting is STRATEGY and PROCESS. Like who cool is it that the Giants studied the Patriots’ pattern of success, and then proceeded to intelligently apply new approaches in the game, and succeed? (i.e., not allowing Tom Brady any time alone with the ball.) Or how about those recent articles about how football causes severe, permanent brain damage to linebackers, who retired in their 40s with brain scans that reveal an 86-year-old addled with Alzheimers. Now THAT is freaking fascinating.
Anyway, I could not have reached this moment if Tony and Derek did not explain what “fourth down” and all that BS means, and I must also thank my husband, with whom I watched the second half of the game, who explained the rest (like that Eli and the other thick Manning guy who played for the Colts are brothers).
That’s all. I wish some of them cried at the end. That would’ve made it more satisfying for me.