The Super Bowl is stupid. We say that and we’re football fans here at Runnin’ Scared. Watching the “big game,” as it is referred to by companies attempting to profit off its popularity without paying licensing fees, is a useful exercise in being a stupid person for an entire day. Don’t believe us? Let’s go over what Sunday will be like for you and the millions of other stupid people who will be watching the Super Bowl:
9:00 a.m.: Your clock radio wakes you up with the inane blabber of a morning DJ asking the ether, “Who ya got in today’s big game?” He will then play “Centerfield” by John Fogerty. This will suck.
10:03 a.m.: After showering and having a cup of coffee, you go to the grocery store to buy beer. All the cold beer will be taken because the entire nation has been preparing to listen to Troy Aikman talk for three-and-a-half hours. You buy a 30-pack of warm Icehouse.
10:37 a.m.: Friends who supposedly had their own plans to watch the game start calling to ask if they can come over. You say “yes” because today is Super Bowl Sunday and you are a stupid person today.
11:01 a.m.: You turn on your TV to make sure it works. Yes, you will actually do this. You get drawn into ESPN’s Sunday NFL Countdown and laugh when Chris Berman says “Aaron Rodgers” in a silly voice. Remember, you are stupid.
11:28 a.m.: The first of your guests arrive. They ask if you are “pumped.” You respond in the affirmative.
12 p.m.: An argument ensues between you and your guests: will you order Pizza Hut’s Big Dipper for the Big Game Special, Domino’s Philly Cheese Steak Pizza, or Papa John’s “Build Your Own Masterpiece” Pizza. You suggest Papa John’s because, “if you register for Papa John’s online customer loyalty program and the game goes into overtime, you will receive 25 Papa Points, redeemable for a large three-topping pizza.” Despite winning the debate, this will be the stupidest thing you have ever said.
12:40 p.m.: A friend asks if you want to bet on the game. You take the Steelers -4.5 despite this being seven-and-a-half points off the actual line.
2:08 p.m.: You switch to Fox’s pregame coverage just in time to watch Keith Urban perform. You make fun of him, but you’re the one watching, stupid.
3:34 p.m.: You ask why the game hasn’t started yet. You don’t realize that it won’t begin for another three hours.
4:00 p.m.: The pizzas arrive. No one has money to pay you, so you tell everyone that they can’t have any. They ask, “What are you going to do, eat all the pizza?” You let them eat the pizza.
5:15 p.m.: A guest asks about the specifics of the Ben Roethlisberger sexual assault claim. You give a seven minute explanation that is 3% accurate. The guest will relay this account to their friends, and soon the rumor that Ben Roethlisberger was suspended by Roger Goodell for engaging in a Monroe Transfer with an underage beekeeper will spread throughout the country.
6:02 p.m.: An advertisement for Sprint airs during the pregame featuring Lance Armstrong in a bike race against Poseidon, Medusa and a centaur. You say, “Oh, the good commercials are starting.” You are not being sarcastic.
6:30 p.m.: Kick-off. You applaud.
6:38 p.m.: Packers’ left tackle Chad Clifton moves before the ball is snapped. You scream, “Offsides!” The ref will then penalize the Packers for a false start. You glance around the room with a smug smile.
7:51 p.m.: The Black Eyed Peas start their halftime performance. Taboo, the weird-looking one, claps his hands in the air while you and 100 million other Americans tap their feet in rhythm. This will mark the start of the decline of Western civilization.
8:50 p.m.: You yell at Mike Tomlin for not going for it on 4th and 5. The Steelers have a ten point lead at this point.
9:56 p.m.: The game ends and your guests leave. You dip a cold piece of Papa John’s pizza into garlic sauce and think, “That was fun.”
10:33 p.m.: You fall asleep during Glee.