OFFENSIVE LINES

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (02-18-21)- Please remember small business in your town during this coronavirus pandemic

     I heard there was a big football game last Sunday and I set out in search of it. I couldn't wait for the game to start, but patience is a virtue during the Super Bowl pregame. There was a Presidential Word, A Moment of Silence, An Inspirational Video, An Official Hearing-Impaired Signer Introduction, A Patriotic Song, The Color Guard Presentation, The National Anthem, A Military Flyover, A Heartening Poem, An Essential Worker Recognition, A Coin Toss Ceremony, and then we finally got to the main event: the commercials. Perhaps it would have been appropriate to add a reading of the United States Constitution and maybe a quick run-through of the periodic table of the elements. I started to feel like the over/under on when the game would start was never.

     First the teams had to emerge from the catacombs beneath the building, where they were safely squirreled away in an airtight vault where they had been accruing interest, awaiting their grand entrance. That took another five minutes, and it reminded me of the scene in "This Is Spinal Tap," where the band tries to make it from the dressing room out to the arena stage, but keeps getting lost and passing the same mechanic in the boiler room over and over again.

     There seemed to be something of a disconnect between what was happening at the stadium and what we were seeing at home. The President and First Lady thanked the essential workers and reminded everyone to wear a mask, and a few of the 22,000 fans in attendance got the message, the ones that weren't eating, drinking or ordering food and drinks. The stadium was only at 30 percent capacity due to covid restrictions, and it was harder to get into Raymond James Stadium than it was to get into the Capitol Building.

     A poem by America's Youth Poet Laureate celebrated the honorary co-captains for the game, who were essentially essential workers. The verse was uplifting, but I feel that I could have done just as good a job, as America's Poet Ignoreate. I picture myself sharing some life-affirming poems, like the one that goes, "I once knew a lady from Dallas,..." Actually, maybe I'll save that one for the post-game. Or the one that starts, "A damsel from North Carolina,..." Come to think of it that one might be better for post-post-game. Turns out poetry is harder than it looks. Just as I'm finishing my poem I get the "stretch it for time" signal from the stage manager, apparently the Air Force flyover is only now passing above Valdosta, and I have to come up with some more words that rhyme with "Gronkowski."

     The game finally did begin, but by the end of the first half it was beginning to look like a snore, and I started pining for some more poems and maybe the Pledge of Allegiance performed by a troupe of Tik Tok influencers.

     I usually root against Tom Brady because I'm tired of good-looking, well-spoken, well-educated, charitably-minded winners who say all the right things trying to act as role models. But the 43 year-old leading his team to victory did feel like a win for the old guys. It proves us ancient geezers are still at the top of our game. Just the other day I was making breakfast and my egg started rolling across the counter off the edge, and with an impressive athletic flourish I grabbed it in mid-air. I dropped the rest of the carton on the foot in order to catch it, which made quite a mess. But I attacked the problem with all the mental acuity and perspicacity of a.... What were we talking about again?

     I read that this year's was the most bet-on Super Bowl ever. Somebody laid $2.3 million on Tampa Bay and won $2 million. Most of the people betting on the coin toss bet "heads" and won. I'm willing to bet that if I was the referee I'd be looking all over for a quarter at the last minute, because no one carries cash anymore. "Does anyone at least have a Bitcoin?" If you lost a pile of cash I'm sorry, but don't be too hard on the Chiefs. It turns out that quarterback Patrick Mahomes played the entire game with a bad case of "turf toe." Was he just faking the injury to try and jump the coronavirus vaccine queue? I'll let you know if I see him on the line- I'm faking old age as a pre-condition and I can be pretty convincing.