This is the part where I tell you I watch sports 0% of the time. I used to, but I’d say it has been a good 6 years since I watched a full game of football, and that was probably also the last time I watched the Superbowl. Shelby probably hasn’t watched since he left his parents house blankity blank years ago if he ever watched it at all. So when our theatre friend (the Zipper) invited us to her place for a SB party, we accepted, but only after being assured that the gathering would include other theatre geeks who were equally likely to ignore the game.
This is also the part where I tell you that we didn’t even know the participants in the bowl prior to Friday evening. It was only then, when Shelby made a wager, that we discovered who was playing. Shelby, who has not shown evidence that he has ever watched or participated in organized sports bet on the biggest football game of the year. This is basically how that conversation went down.
Jaybird: Are you going?
Shelby: Yeah, are you?
Jaybird: Yep. I need somebody to bet me. Wanna bet me?
Shelby: Sure. Who do you want?
Shelby: Great, so who do I have?
Shelby: Cool, I can deal with that.
From Jaybird’s point of view (I’m guessing) the bet was to make the game more interesting and gave him a better reason to watch. From Shelby’s point of view, he made a bet with a cool guy he wants to hang out with more.
So we get to the party (late, stupid GPS not quite getting us there) and get settled in. Patriots are already behind. We watch for a bit, and then some games are brought out for the two kids that were there (8 and 11, so not super young, just not super interested in football). Some Mad Libs were also brought out for the adults to play when things got slow. And then, the crucial moment in the first half, when I’m rootin for the Patriots to get that touchdown before the end of the half and it ACTUALLY HAPPENS, I go to celebrate with the Huz who has made a bet on the game and should be slightly interested or at least paying attention only to find him playing Uno on the floor in the kitchen. Really?
But then the halftime show begins, and the music for Vogue starts, and suddenly my manly man is front and center watching Madonna traipse around the stage. (We spent almost the entire halftime show talking about how awful she looked and how shocked we were at how much skin she had covered and how silly a lot of her dancing was. Was that really even Madonna? Maybe not.)
Most of the rest of the game, Shoobs was MIA. He made a grand appearance for a bit after the kids went home and made a valiant effort to pay attention to the game. I wowed everyone with my football knowledge (not really, but I did write a report on it once!). I watched the Giants creep up on the Patriots almost the entire second half. And then I watched as they scored the winning TD and ran out the clock (basically). I was really hoping that despite the craptasticness of their game (just watch all the replays) they would somehow hold off the Giants and we wouldn’t go home penniless. But alas, Shoobs made a bad bet.
It was only twenty bucks, so who really cares. And Jaybird got his competition, at least from me. And we got to hang out with new people besides each other and Natalie and have a wonderful evening. I’d pay twenty bucks for that. In fact, I did.