You know, I have never bought something because of a commercial, but I certainly have NOT bought something because of one.  Capital One falls in the latter category–I will never use them. By the way, I mute commercials every other time I watch TV, so this is agony for me.

James Harrison is cute, too.  The Stillers are a handsome bunch.

Crazy Train by Ozzy Osbourne is a kicking song.

Annnnd we’re off.

Dang.  James Harrison is the youngest of fourteen kids.  I guess that’s the color to the story.

Oooh, fumble????  James Harrison recovers the turnover!

Wooooot!  It’s gonna be overturned, though. 

Ok, the Denny’s commercial with Martin Scorsese was worth half a chuckle.

Damn.  Incomplete pass.  But, Stillers should get the ball back, anyway, because it’s fourth down.

Oooh Troy’s luscious locks!

I am not a gadget woman, but I love my HDTV for optimum sports-watching.

The Rock is cute, but what’s up with the Disney movies?

Awww, my boys are snuggling on my lap, cheeks pressed against each other.  They are so cute.

The Steelers are marching down the field again, but where in the world is Hines Ward?  I know he’s hurt, but I expected to see a little more of him.  Woah, Ben went from possibly losing fifteen yards to getting a personal foul against the defender.  He’s really good at scrambling.

The Cards’ defense is being exposed.  They really don’t know what to do. 

Hm.  A third foul on the Cardinals.  Oooh, does that give a first down?  Yes, it does.  Stuuuuupid. 

Just get in the damn end zone!  You have to be kidding me!  Gah!

God, I hate dick flicks.

Just muted my first commercial.  It was either that or kill my TV.  And the commercial is STILL playing.  I don’t even know what it’s for because I stopped watching.  Yes, that’s a really effective commercial, folks.

Deep thought:  If the score stays as is right now, might a defensive end actually win the Super Bowl MVP trophy?  I think he would have to have another interception and run-back to even be considered.  That’s sad.

Ok, I don’t care that the commercial was stupid–Troy Polamalu!  Yes!

This sucks.

WTF???????

You have to be kidding me!

That was a catch?????

Wooooot!

Replay….oh, the tension.  That was a catch, man!   It was a catch!

Ok, if this stands, then Ben should get the MVP.

Crap.  My emotions are all over the place. 

It’s my blogging.  I stopped blogging, and the Cardinals came back.  I started blogging again, and the Stillers get a touchdown.

So, for the last half a minute, I’ m going to keep blogging.  Yes, I know it’s ridiculous.  Yes, I know it won’t help my team to blog, but it can’t hurt. 

Interception.  Interception.  Interception.  Crap.  I like Larry, though, because he’s from MN (and he’s cute). 

Come on, Stillers!  Half a minute.  Come on, D.  This is your bread and butter.  You can do it!  Come on, Troy.  Interception now!

Woooot!  Farrier.  Fumble reception.  Game over!

Man.  That was too wild.  Still, the Steelers won, and that’s what matters.

Though, I have to give mad props to the Cards.  They played one hell of a game.

Post Game Crap:

Who is gonna be MVP?  I’m guessing Ben.  Maybe.  Santonio?  Maybe.  James?  Not a chance.

Time has not been kind to Joe Namath.  Too much booze.

What a stupid question.  Did you ever think you were in over your head?  What??  Mike Tomlin just won the f’ing Super Bowl, and you want to ask if he thought he couldn’t handle it????

Damn.  Santonio got MVP.  I long for a defensive guy to get one.

Ok.  I did my blogging duty.  God has spoken–he prefers Troy Polamalu over Kurt Warner.  Night!

I like Cris Collinsworth, even if he’s missing an H in his name.

I like Tony Dungy, even despite his personal religious beliefs.

Actually, this whole crew is pretty laid-back and easy to tolerate.  I would have liked to have Keith on the show, but a grrl can’t have everything.

Can the commercials suck any more than they already do?  I actually started muting them last year in the second half.  I might have to do the same this year.  It’s sad, really, because they used to be so enjoyable.

Ok.  Here we go.   At least we won’t see any nipple.  Please god.  Hines Ward, Troy Polamalu, and Mike Tim/Tomlin…yummy.

Yawn.   oh, sorry.  Woo, it’s Bruce.  And the E  Street Band.  I wish he would do one of his depressing dirges just to bring the crowd down.  That would be really funny. 

Who wants to bet that the last song will be Born in the USA, even though it’s more a critique of the U.S. than anything else?

Ok, they are good performers.  I’ll give them that much.

Hm.  Maybe I should go get food now.  I don’t want to miss a nipple moment, but I don’t think that’s gonna happen.

Wow.  No Born in the USA.  I’m glad I didn’t make that bet!  On to the second half.

Fire.  I like fire.

Oops.  More halftime.   The Bus!  I love the Bus!  Ok.  Now, the second half.  After these messages, of course.

Someone god-awful just draaaaaaggged out America the Beautiful.  I think it’s Faith Hill, but I quickly changed to a DVD while she was draaaaaagggging out one word.

Jennifer Houston doing a beautiful rendition of The Star-Spangled Banner.  Good for her.

Woah, the sideline reporter, Alex something sounds like she’s mixed up her downers and her uppers.  Hon, it’s meth in the morning and Valium at night.  I hope that helps.

Old farts, war hero, tossing of the coin….and we’re off.

Ben scores!  Oh no, it’s being challenged.  Overturned.  First gut-check of the night.  Go for it!  Oh, come on.  Wuss.  Mike,  Bill would have decided to go for it.   Oh well.  Points on the board for Pittsburgh.  That’s the important part, I guess.

Gah.  First two commercials–suck.

TROY POLAMALU!  Sigh.  Live shop of Polamalu and his gorgeous hair.

Ok.  I chuckled at Conan.  That was a cute commercial.

Deep thought–how is it that car companies spend so much money on commercials and have so little to show for it?  Maybe that’s why they’re going bankrupt.

Gotta say it–I don’t like Bruce Springsteen. Oh well.  None of my faves will ever play the Super Bowl halftime show.

Someone please put John Madden out to the pasture.  Thank you.

Well the Wild Cat got tamed.

Touchdown!

Ok, I like the Bud commercials because I like horses.  And they are cute.

Star Trek.  Yawn.

Deeper thought:  Next year, it will be the 44th Super Bowl.  Obama is our 44th POTUS.  Does that mean the Bears will be in next year’s Super Bowl?

By the way, I would love to see an outdoor Super Bowl game in a place with snow.  I know it will probably not happen, but I think a game at Lambeau Field (pictured to the left) would be faaaaaantastic.  It would be Ice Bowl II:  The Return of the Ice Bowl.

Ok, that was a nice catch.  Maybe it’ll actually be a game.

G for goddamn stupid.

I wanna like Heroes, really I do.  I am a graphic novel geek, but the show just leaves me cold.

Al Michaels is annoying, too.  My fave football announcer is Jaws.  Unfortunately, he’s paired with the grating, blithering idiot, Kornheiser.  Oh, and I don’t have cable so no ESPN for me.  Speaking of which, I would have loved to see Nadal beat Federerererererer last night at the Australian Open,  Alas, it’s not shown on broadcast television, although it’s purportedly a major.

Crap.  The game is turning.  I don’t like it.  I think Troy needs to have an interception/runback right about now.

Ok.  Cardinals are a bit disjointed.  That’s good.

I.Hate.freaky.babies.in.commercials.  The e-trade baby is as freaky as a clown.

I also hate the drinkability commercials.

An impassioned plea to ad makers–companies spent gazillions to secure these spots.  Please use more than thirteen brain cells to dream them up.  That is all.

Wow.   What a mean, nasty commercial (teleflora).  I didn’t even know you could get flowers in a box.  Is that like a dick in a box?

Gah.  I said TROY should get an interception.

Now I’m listening to Dick in a Box, and I have the game on mute.  How backwards is that?  Muting the game and listening to the lame-ass commercials.  Next up, Lazy Sunday, which is even funnier.

Woot!  Interception and return!  But it’s Harrison and not Polamalu.  Shit.  Flag.  Oh, it’s on the Cards.  Woooooo-hoooooooooo!  Crap.  I hope James is ok.  Oh, he’s up.  Whew.  He probably was just winded.  Touchdown!

Ok, posting this now.  Next up, half-time horrors!

By the way, when did the Super Bowl commercials begin to suck so much?  I remember as recently as five years ago, there were some laugh-out-loud funny ones.  Now, they are mostly sophomoric and cringe-worthy.

Anyway, back to The Game.  I have been a huge sports fan for fifteen years.  I don’t know how it started or why, but after college, I became obsessed.  I am a homer all the way, so it was the Twins, the Timberwolves, and the Vikings for me.  I have grudgingly come to accept the Wild, but I still hate Dallas for stealing our team and changing their name.  Although, it’s better they DID change the name because the Dallas North Stars would have made as much sense as, well, the LA Lakers.

Anyhoo, I used to read ESPN and SI on a daily basis, along with UniWatchBlog because I was fascinated by the variations in unis that I saw while watching the games.  Paul Lukas started UniWatch at ESPN, and he launched the blog a few years ago.  If you are obsessed with trivial uni matters, this is the blog for you.

However, about a year ago, I noticed something strange.  My enthusiasm for sports had been slowly, but steadily decreasing.  It started when I could no longer shut my eyes to the rampant misogyny that courses through all of sports.  Most of the writing is geared towards men and is sometimes insulting to women to boot.  The commercials are definitely aimed at heterosexual males, and even the blathering of the announcers seems tailored for the male ear.

Paul’s blog was the only one (at that time) where I commented, and I was one of a handful of women.  I was also one of the only Asian Americans.  Let’s not talk about bi, either.  Sports is also the last bastion of homophobia–well, besides fundamental religion, that is.  I got tired of reading homophobic, sexist, and racist comments on a daily basis–and Paul’s readers are probably the least Neanderthal-like of the men who watch sports. 

I also was disgusted about how Janet Jackson’s nipple drew so much outrage.  I missed the moment because I had decided to get a snack (halftime is usually boring), but I got to see the pixelated replay over and over and over again, accompanied by the forced shock on the faces of the anchors who had to make it perfectly clear that this breast was not acceptable.  Parents called in to complain about disturbing a ‘family show’, which is the height of comedy considering that they were watching a game where grown men hit each other with brutal (but artistic) grace.  They were watching commercials that objectified women or made fun of them.  Protesting Janet’s nipple was a bit hypocritical in my eyes.  Besides, why did no one criticize Justin Timberlake who was the one ripping off her breast patch?  Janet was canceled from performing at the…Grammys, I think, because of the incident, whereas Justin got off scot-free.  That really made me mad and more aware than usual how fucked up we are (still) about women and sexuality, and how sports tend to enforce those stereotypes.

So, I quit reading the comments and commenting on a daily basis.  I still read Paul’s column faithfully, but I steered clear of the comment section for the most part.  I also quit reading ESPN and SI.  I used to watch any game that was on TV, in part because I don’t have cable so I don’t get to watch that many games.  I didn’t care if it was the Lakers vs. the Celtics or the Lions vs. the Browns.  If it was on TV, I was watching it.  Now, I don’t watch a game unless I have a vested interest, and I have been known to turn off a game that isn’t holding my attention.

I never was a stats geek, but I used to keep up on who was doing what in which sport.  I don’t do that any longer.  When I got swept up in Obama-mania in the fall, I lost all interest in sports except for the local games and a few other teams.  I replaced sports with politics and although I am burning out a bit on the latter, I find it a much more satisfying obsession than sports. 

I am also mad at how privileged the world of pro-sports is.  As I have blogged about previously,  Carl Pohlad managed to get his bailout (for the Twins) before dying, and there are approximately seven hundred and twenty-three things that are more worthy of that money right now.  In general, I am tired of the whining in sports about how a million is not enough for–I’m not sure.  I always stop reading at this point.

It also pisses me off that fans are so bone-crunchingly macho when it comes to sports.  I was reading about Rafa beating Roger in the Australian Open–by the way, it’s a major.  Please, please, can’t the networks broadcast it?–and Roger breaking down and crying during the trophy presentation.  The comments on the article, in HuffPo no less, bothered me a great deal.  Some of them said Roger had to ‘man up’ and not let Rafa get in his head.  Others sneered at Roger for crying so much about losing.  WTF?  When you want something so badly, to miss it by so little is heartwrenching.  As someone who cried when she lost a spelling bee (don’t ask), I can totally relate to Roger breaking down.  Big. Fucking. Deal.  So the man shows some genuine emotion–get over it.  First, the fans deride him because he’s emotionless and boring.  Now, they get on his case for showing emotions. 

So, you are probably guessing that I’m not going to watch the Super Bowl after my little rant.  Well, surprise!  I am.  Why?  Because the Steelers are my second favorite team (because they wear black.  Yes, I chose my second favorite teams based on the color of their unis.  So sue me), and I want to see them trounce the Cardinals.  I am also watching because Troy Polamalu is teh hotness personified.  I only posted one pic of him because I couldn’t find other free-use photos.  The photo shown here is not very good.  Here is a link to his Google image search.  Please note the cover of SI pic–he is….yum…..

So, go have a blast at your Super Bowl party.  I will be watching with my finger on the mute button (I HATE John Madden), eyes firmly glued to Troy Polamalu’s hair.  GO STEELERS!