New England is football heaven
As I sit down to write this column for my dear reader, allow me to paint the scene. I have the heavy metal band Slayer cranked up to an 11. My waffle-top thermal has a food stain on it from tacos I made earlier tonight. I am on my fifth black tea of the day. My head is bopping to the beat of the music (head-banging) with enthusiasm and my mouth hurts from smiling so much.
Matt, why are you in such a good mood?
Oh, because Katy Perry gave the performance of a lifetime. She cured world poverty with her crappy music, dragging Missy Elliot and Lenny Kravitz out.
I am going to complain and whine first. I have to go dark.
The commercials were awful, simply awful. Remember in the late ’90s and early ’00s when the Super Bowl commercials were funny and outrageous? The commercial that everyone is going to do a cartwheel for is that annoying Budweiser commercial where the guy lost his puppy. But of course, the fucking Budweiser horses found the puppy and made sure the puppy made it safe back to the guy. Every woman in America cried. I was too busy peeing out my Coke Zero Cherry to honestly care. If I remember correctly, I told my father, “I hope that puppy dies in a fire.” The old couple with the Viagra pill was dumb. I don’t care that Jeff Bridges went insane and made a CD for sleeping. All the commercials were a nightmare.
Next, the halftime show. My female friends told me that the half-time show was incredible. They also tell me that the commercials were fantastic. Guess who found a way to get women to watch the Super Bowl if they weren’t diehard football fans?
I didn’t watch it so there was nothing to report.
Let’s talk about the pregame entrances. The New England Patriots came out to the Ozzy Osbourne song “Crazy Train.” The Seattle Seahawks came out to a song I didn’t recognize. Someone told me it was a song by The Verve called “Bittersweet Symphony.” I didn’t even know that was a real song. I just thought it was an overused commercial jingle that only seemed to annoy me and make me see red.
Wow, Matt. You seem so angry and bitter even though your team won the big game. I am from New England — everything bothers us.
Let’s get into the actual game.
I’m not going to bore you with stats. I am not going to pretend to understand the intricacies of the no-huddle offense or a three-man rush. I wish to speak about the Super Bowl in a different way.
I love shit-talking. I love bragging. When someone is running their mouth, I begin to smile. Why? Because smack-talking can go either really well or really awful. See, I played a lot of competitive games when I was a teenager. I won a lot of games, I lost a lot of games. The worst feeling in the world is when you’ve been running your pie-hole for hours only to lose at the end of the match. And when someone has been running their trap for hours, telling you that you will lose, and you turn the tables to finally win — their silence becomes your ambrosia. Their tears of defeat become the sweat honey added to your tea.
When you finally defeat the opposition, especially a vocal man named Richard Sherman (cornerback to the Seattle Seahawks), victory is so very sweet. Now, I love Richard Sherman and his attitude. I love his arrogance and cockiness, and his amazing ability to actually play football. Growing up in the inner city, bravdo (aka smack-talking) was essential to survival. So, I’m usually entertained when someone is running their mouth.
And, I’m totally aware that New England Patriots’ quarterback Tom Brady is a big time smack-talker. He went to Michigan University. Of course he runs his mouth. He’s married to a Victoria Secret underwear model. His legacy is cemented and will become a Hall of Famer fast then it takes to boil an egg. But I love it when Tom yells and talks junk to his opponents. Why? He backs it up.
If you watched the game yesterday, Brady had a not-so-perfect game. He made a terrible few throws. But when the chips are down, Tom will not let you down.
I made the huge mistake of counting out the New England Patriots at the beginning of the regular season. After seeing how average and beatable my team was, I thought the season was lost. Never again. As long as Tom Brady can throw a football, we have a chance. No matter how much the league screws with the New England Patriots because they are insanely jealous, always trust Tom Brady and head coach Bill Belichick.
So I am going to say this clearly and concisely to all the fans of the NFL. I want them to understand what I’m about to say despite their agonizing hatred for my team. Shut your mouths and listen to Uncle Matt closely. Get your face right next to the computer screen.
You now live in New England. It’s time to pay the rent.