Imagine sitting down at a nice restaurant, ready to eat the fantastic meal you always get with your friends at this time of year. This restaurant always has the choicest of meats and an excellent atmosphere. There is even a guy who plays piano requests for tips, and he's really good. All told, this is one event you and your friends have been looking forward to for a whole year. In fact, it's all you could talk about among yourselves for the past two weeks. Everything is going great until the waiter gets to the table and tells you the chef has decided to make only two dishes tonight — both of which make you violently ill, albeit in different ways.
So what do you do? Pick one over the other — vomit over diarrhea — or skip the meal? Either choice of food leaves you with a crappy (excuse the pun) result. But if you just skip the meal, not only are you then stuck doing something by yourself while all your friends are eating, you have to wait a full year to have that same meal.
If I were you, I'd walk away. I'm not eating that meal and subjecting myself to the torture that will ensue. Which is why I am here today to say: on Feb. 4 I will not watch the Super Bowl. Yup, I said it. After much careful deliberation, I have decided to go Super Sunday with an empty Bowl.
This is a first for me. I have watched many games in which I really don't care who wins — probably more than is advisable while still trying to maintain decent grades.
Nope, this is different.
This time I don't think I can possibly deal with either the Bears or the Colts winning. If it was possible, I would do anything in my power to see a freak incident in which both teams end up forfeiting. I don't care who wins, just please, please not the Bears or Colts.
The worst part is I will probably miss a good game.
There were 12 teams at the start of the playoffs. If I knew my math I could figure it out exactly, but I'll just go ahead and say there are a lot of possible championship matchups in a 12-team tournament, probably more than 50. Out of all those possibilities, the one I absolutely did not want to see happen came through.
As a Packers fan, you are drilled from Day 1 to despise the Flatlanders to the south. The Happy Schnapps Combo's "The Bears Still Suck" is a lullaby, and the mention of the Bears' name is followed closely by a "Boo!"
I watched Sunday in excitement for three quarters as Rex Grossman struggled (a true rarity for a playmaker such as him) to move the ball against the Saints. Then the Bears wound up winning and set the stage for the second game.
But it is not necessarily the Bears' team itself that bugs me the most. Chicago fans are some of the most insufferably obnoxious around. All you have to do is remember a year ago when the Chicago White Sox won the World Series. White Sox fans came out of the woodwork loudly, wearing hats that all looked as if they had been purchased in the last week. The Bears winning the Super Bowl would be twice as bad, plus Grossman would go down as arguably the worst quarterback ever to win a ring.
So then why not root for the Colts? They are a likeable enough team for the most part — "for the most part" being the key phrase.
First of all, one of the few things I absolutely hate about sports is domed stadiums and the teams that play in them. Football is a game meant to be played in outdoor elements.
Still, that in itself would not be enough to dissuade me from cheering for the Colts. What puts the Colts over the top on the Hate-o-meter is Peyton Manning.
How is it possible to hate a 6-foot-5, 230-pound, rocket-arm quarterback, you ask? I've seen him check it to pancakes way too often. He's chanted "Cut that meat!" one time too many times. And honestly, I don't care if Tommy has the best arm in the neighborhood. If a punk kid on a bike throws a newspaper through my window, I am chasing him down, not smiling at him. Hey Peyton, that sound coming from my house, we actually are saying "Boooooooo!"
Peyton is so overexposed, it is ridiculous. Try turning on a football game and watching a commercial break without seeing him — impossible.
But my dislike for Manning actually didn't start with the commercial blitz. Manning plays quarterback like a robot. His perfect fundamentals make me wonder if he just got done watching the football equivalent of the Tom Emanski videos before every game. Don't get me wrong, fundamentals are good and should be taught to kids, but show a little bit of style out there, Peyton.
If the Colts win the Super Bowl, Manning's face will be everywhere. Be ready for "Peyton Manning Teaches You Sign Language" infomercials, Manning Flakes and who knows what else. I could barely handle the Battle of the Gridiron Stars overload — three Mannings on one show, placed strategically on opposing teams so that one has to win.
The Colts are out of the picture, too, then.
So, screw you guys and your Super Bowl that makes me sick. I am eating alone.
Ben is a sophomore majoring in political science and journalism. If you are an attractive female in search of a date Feb. 4 or want to talk smack about Manning and the Bears, shoot him an e-mail at [email protected].