I found myself recuperating from a strenuous hike while watching Super Bowl XLII on Feb. 3, 2008. More than the commercials and half-time show, I really wanted to see Eli Manning play, but from a horizontal position, because I was in so much pain from the six-mile hike.
Pain or no pain, food took priority, so I jetted to a Mexican restaurant just minutes before the coin toss. The Motrin I took earlier gave me the strength to drive. Heads I’d buy chips and salsa, tails I’d buy a chili relleno dinner. I ended up buying it all since I heard it was going to be a great game—much fuel needed.
When the cashier clerk, a young blonde thing, asked me who I was rootin’ for, I said the Giants over the Patriots, hands-down. She agreed with my choice and explained why. ”I support San Francisco all the way!” she said. I almost said something about the difference between NY Giants and SF Giants (football verses baseball), but thought, what the heck, it doesn’t really matter. So instead I told her I was supporting the Giant’s too. I mean if she had told me she was voting for Osama Bin Laden for President, then I woulda said something. You’ve gotta choose your correctional-battles.
Meanwhile back at the house, Eli Manning came through for me. He was MVP for me too, not just for the San Francisco Giants! Added bonus was watching his older brother Peyton from inside his $30,000 booth showing such brotherly love and support. I’ll bet his mom made him stay there in the corner all day, seen through the dark windows, but either way, he was there.
Mr. Rubberface himself, Jim Carrey was spotted at the game. Comics and football go so well together, like cake and ice cream – of which I had neither for my one-person after party celebration.
By second half, I had stuffed myself so much, that my stomach hurt, but it was worth it. The game was alive, exciting and edgy, even down to the very last second (literally) of the game.
The commercials were fun too. Talking Stain was one of my favorites, but I didn’t like the one with the guy who connected jumper cables to his nipples to start a car. That was both “ew” and stupid. He should’ve just connected them to the cavities on his teeth.
Bridgestone Super Bowl halftime show with Tom Petty was good, but not wow. No wardrobe failure either, not even a popped guitar string. He opened with American Girl and ended with Free Fallin’.
By the end of the game, Giants 17, Patriots 14, I had forgotten all about my aching calves, until I got up and the pain hit me hard. I still don’t know what a blitz is, but my body sure felt like one.
Charleen Earley is a comedienne, freelance writer and a high school journalism teacher. She can be reached at charleenbearley@gmail.com.
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