No, I'm not your everyday girl. At 5:15 one day a year, all the errands are run, the cat and bird are fed, the laundry is done and folded. I'm in my favorite chair with my pop and crunchy Cheetos, laptop charged and rabbit ears precariously balanced, the door is locked and the phones are off. It's time for the Superbowl
The crash of helmets, the strategy of the line, the rumble of the crowd, baseball may be America's past time, but football has my heart. I'm all for the underdog, which makes me a Giants fan this year. I've got a deep distaste for Belichick and I never, ever root for the Pats. But, truth be told, I don't care who wins. It's all good.
After the reading of the Declaration of Independence and the Star-Spangled Banner, it's kick off--the meeting of the modern gladiators. This is the one day that I forgive the NFL, the politicians and even my mom. I'll buy what your selling be it patriotism or a Ford truck. However, if you want my attention, I hope it's to high five me for a Brady interception.
At half time, I might even drink that beer my neighbor brought me when I moved in 10 months ago. Luckily, nearly everyone in my building is gone. I have been known to get a little loud and take out lighting fixtures in my exuberance.
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