The "Big Game".

Right on the heels of my Rocky Horror Picture Show exploits was the Super Bowl. It's identified in some advertising as "The Big Game" due to the litigious nature of the NFL, and this year pitted the New Orleans Saints against the Indianapolis Colts. The game was a good one; perhaps it wasn't one of the very best in history, but was worthy of being associated with the best in recent years. My Super Bowl experience was colored by the company I kept as I watched it: one more or less indifferent person from Louisiana and about fifteen rabid Hoosiers.

I favored the Saints for a few reasons. First, they had beaten my team, the Cardinals. I tend to root for the team that beats my teams since it makes my team's loss appears somewhat more justifiable. Then there was the whole hurricane thing, and I've had positive feelings about the team dating to before that. Call it my soft spot for the underdog. Based on all this, I placed a fifty cent wager on the Saints. The Lousianan and I were too frightened to cheer for the Saints very ostentatiously, so we devised a subtle and quiet method: we would simply raise our index finger to one another. It seemed to work well. Such a thing is truly better watched with company. All the pleasures of it are amplified in such circumstances. For most games, rounding up people to watch with is challenging, but the Super Bowl is the game that attracts hundreds of millions of people who are watching their first football game of the season. No more than a couple were among us.

It was a great Super Bowl party, and while the people were the biggest reason, the food was a big one as well. Leading off the offerings were incredible pulled pork sandwiches. The meat was great, but what set them apart were the hot, moist and buttery buns. Also great were homemade blue donuts (!), little football shaped chocolate things, macaroons, nachos, and fine, fine beers.

The game, of course, did not go the way of the Hoosier State. There seemed to be a very real prospect of the mood becoming unpleasant. It started great, and then became concerned but optimistic. Then it just got concerned, and then it got upset. From there it got to be a mood of acceptance. It was pretty close to the usual stages of grief. Once the outcome of the game was sure, I started hearing bottles crashing in the kitchen. Angry cleaning up really says it all. We stayed long enough to watch part of the show CBS hopes to make a hit by providing it with the Super Bowl as a lead-in. It was really a very good time. As always, it feels wonderful to be included in such a thing.