I don’t care who wins the Super Bowl this Sunday.
And honestly, I rarely do.
There are exceptions to this, of course. I cared very much when Rex Grossman and the Bears went to Miami to square off with Peyton Manning and the Colts. Too much, to be honest. And if the Bears ever got back to the final Sunday of the NFL season, I’m sure I would care too much again. But unless there are individuals I know involved, or individuals I seriously like/dislike involved, I find it quite hard to emotionally invest in the entire enterprise.
One time I was on a flight from Queens to Jacksonville and was seated across the aisle from Tom Coughlin. He was reading a biography of John Wooden, and I introduced myself. For the whole of that flight, Coughlin asked me questions about MY life. He wanted to know how a musical was constructed, what my work habits were, how we cast, etc. I never even got to tell him I had this website! But I also never rooted against Coughlin again, especially in those two Super Bowls. To the contrary, there is no scenario where I would ever root for Tony Dungy or Aaron Rodgers.
The Super Bowl is important, to the two teams playing and their fans. For this writer, when the Bears are not involved, the Super Bowl is about the $500 box I share at the Copper Kettle and trying a new wing recipe in the air fryer. (This year’s will be a sriracha honey thing.) It’s a solemn occasion, marking the end of the NFL season, a season that seems to move quicker and quicker the older I get. As someone who only roots for one team, my sporting focus shifts to the Premier League, and the four golf majors on the horizon. But I don’t have a dog in the soccer fight, and unless Tiger Woods can suddenly walk again, the same can be said for golf. (I root for Rory McIlroy but I’ll be honest, I’m tired.)
Ask yourself, do you really care if the Chiefs win the title again? Maybe you’re all caught up in this drama about the referees, maybe the Taylor Swift stuff is obnoxious to you, maybe you’re just tired of looking at them, but do you really care if they win it again? I sure don’t. I have never had a problem with greatness being great in the sporting arena, and Andy Reid, Patrick Mahomes, Travis Kelce, Steve Spagnuolo, and Chris Jones are inarguably legends of the game.
And while nobody wants to see the battery throwing, Santa Claus booing, generally distasteful Philadelphia sports fan celebrate, how much would it really bother you if they did this Sunday? I don’t live in Philly. I’m not going to be watching the game with any Philly fans. What do I care if they climb the streetlamps and burn down South Street? As long as they leave McGillin’s Olde Ale House alone, they can celebrate however they want.
I don’t care who wins. I hope it’s close. I hope there is a memorable moment or two. I hope I win some money, and the wings come out well. But more than anything else, I hope I’ll someday soon get to experience again the utter joy of seeing my team, the Chicago Bears, on the final field of the NFL season.
