A Super Bowl Story

Nothing says "biggest game of the year" like food.

As we all set aside our political differences for an evening to hold hands and sing kumbaya watch the game, I thought I’d share my Super Bowl story. Because you were hoping that I would. Get a hanky. It’s a sad story.

My husband and I had been married a year and a half, but it was to be our first Super Bowl under the same roof.    I was so very excited. It is practically a religious holiday, and I was going to make it special.

No other day of the year offers the same opportunity to stuff my pie hole with enormous quantities of high fat food. Guilt free. Something about watching the Big Game makes consuming more calories in a single meal than a collegiate power lifting team a-okay. Without the game, it’s just unbridled gluttony.

I know nothing about football, but I had a routine. I collected decadent recipes that included such non-foods as Velveeta. And Rotel. I shopped gleefully, not caring for one single minute that this vast  pile of cholesterol and artificial colors was going to feed just me and my husband.

I was able to step out of my comfort zone for the love of the game. I watched ESPN, the news, searched through the Bible, and even broke down and bought a TV Guide to ascertain the scheduled time for tip-off.  7pm. I even picked “my” team. I always root for the underdog, though truthfully, I have yet to see Underdog actually take the field. But whatever.

I was so happy. Cheesy sausage dip simmering in the slow cooker, corn chips (name-brand, no less) waiting on the counter, pizza, hot cookies coming out of the oven. Hours of binge-eating and watching the Budweiser frogs with my new husband. Does life even get any better than that?

At 7pm, I turned the television on. I flipped through a few stations, but the game hadn’t started. Undaunted, I gave the “cheese” dip a stir to break up the cholesterol clots, loaded my plate, and took my spot on the couch.

7:10 My plate was nearly empty, but there was no game to be found. I checked the TV Guide again, wondering if I had gotten the time wrong, of it it was merely delayed. I fixed more food and waited.

7:20 The button on my jeans burst. Still no game. I flipped through the channels again, but more slowly this time. Perhaps I was only hitting the correct station at a commercial break. But the commercials weren’t that funny. I got a little more food. I no longer recall if my husband was even there.

7:30. I scraped the last of the Velveeta out of the slow cooker. No game. I finally did what any die-hard sports fan would do in this situation. I called my mom. She assured me that the game was being broadcast, as she was watching it herself, and “darn it if Underdog hadn’t just scored! Did you see that play?” I had not. And would not. As it turns out, the game was being aired on Fox. Our back-of-beyond mountain holler was hooked up to cable that boasted four different HBO’s and a Showtime. The only station we could not get. Was Fox.

I think I cried. Or threw up. Unbridled gluttony sometimes wins.

I may still eat this on game day, even if I don't have cable. Who am I to mess with tradition?

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32 thoughts on “A Super Bowl Story

  1. Very funny! There’s nothing wrong with eating more than normal a few days of the year, and one of those days is definitely Super Bowl Sunday.

  2. Which Super Bowl was it? Because if it was Super Bowl XVII, I have it on tape. My husband, then boyfriend, taped over a ten minute montage I had created of the history of the world (long before personal computers – I had to go to our local TV station to use a camera, clothes pins, photos, and a mucic stand over the course of several weeks to complete the project). The History of the World (which is what was written on the label on the tape) montage is gone now, but I have the 1983 Super Bowl and a 1992 episode of Oprah on the tape, if you are interested in borrowing it (you’ll need a VCR).

  3. I had no idea that there was something enjoyable about the Superbowl. I have avoided it since birth. I’m heading to the store to buy my weight in potato chips and french onion dip.

  4. I have a super bowl story similar to that. It was our first superbowl together and we decided to stay home and enjoy it together. As the day progressed rain turned into freezing rain. By the time the game came on we had no power. We ended up going to a neighbor’s house and hovered around a battery powered radio in the dark with them. The batteries died with about 15 minutes left to the game and so we had to call around to see who won the game. Thankfully, we have not missed a super bowl since.

  5. So unfair, after all that prep, being the perfect hostess and all !
    We have an on-going issue being in “new england” ….unless you have one of those $500/mth sport packages, there’s really no way fo telling which game we will get on any given sunday (ah, thats where that phrase comes from…). One week, Giants, net week its determined we are property of the Jets. But I get both the Flyers and the Bruins so I’ m a happy camper.

  6. The only game I watch is the Super Bowl and in order for me to watch it, there has to be plenty of junk food involved. So funny. I just love the fact that you were waiting and eating. I think this could be me, except I think my husband would have never allowed me control of the remote.

  7. A few years ago, we went to our friends’ house for a Super Bowl party. I happen to love football (and eating). Our friends had bought a new big screen TV just in time for the game. But they had hooked up the sound incorrectly – that is, not at all. The Super Bowl as a silent movie isn’t as bad as you may think.

  8. I’m not a football fan. If I’d been you I’d be crying and throwing up. But at least it’s an excuse to step away from the face of books, right? Great post. Very very funny.

  9. That’s hilarious. Honestly, though, it’s not like you missed an episode of Downton Abbey. I’ve been invited to a Super Bowl game today. I was horrified to find out the game doesn’t get going until around 7 pm. I have to be in my pjs by 5:30 on most days. I don’t know what to do. 7 pm is way past my dinnertime, too. I think that by the time I’ve asked, “Which inning is this?” and “What’s that big fork like thing on the field?” people will be escorting me out the door. I’d go for the food, frankly.

  10. Okay… I ended up here because of your award on Kana’s blog. The problem I am having is your blog is entirely too addictive. I enjoy each post so much I just keep continuing on the the next one. How am I supposed to get anything done when you are dominating my whole afternoon? I love your blog. I’m leaving now, to go click on the subscribe button. 🙂

  11. Thanks for stopping by my blog! And I just forgot it was Superbowl Sunday (don’t hurt me! :D) And now we are ordering our pizza after looking at yours…sooo hungry! We would make cookies if a someone…me :(…didn’t use the chocolate chips as her indulgences for chocolate this week, hehe.

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