I’m just not a football fan. My dad was a player, then a coach, then a referee, then a fan. I had more than enough football for any life by the time I was an adolescent and I put it away for good I thought. But as an old man, in a winter that has been pretty harsh, the end of the year games have been kind of fun. What’s great about them is that I enjoy them, but remember nothing by the next one. I really enjoyed the College Championship game but I just had to remind myself who played in it – Alabama and Texas [I looked it up]. The pro playoffs today were exciting. Once the Colts got their rhythm, there was no stopping them. But the Saints·Vikings game was a classic. It was great to see New Orleans make it to the Superbowl, though I think the Colts are going to be hard to beat in Miami.
I was thinking about why I’ve taken to watching these year-end sports spectacles. Unless I reread this, I’ll probably not even remember who played, and will have to relearn the names of the players on Superbowl weekend. I’m pretty sure the appeal is watching a contest where the outcome doesn’t really matter. For the last five years, maybe ten, every day I read the news and wonder how my team is doing. The teams are the political parties, the big games are the every two year elections. It’s refreshing to watch football, because I don’t care. If the Jets beat the Colts, I’m glad a rookie quarterback made it to the Superbowl. If the Colts beat the Jets, I’m glad that the Manning dynasty is still king. If the Saints beat the Vikings, I’m pleased for post-Katrina New Orleans. If the Vikings win, I’m happy that Favre can still lead a team at 40 years old. The outcome is gloriously trivial.
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