I am not a football fan. I’m a baseball guy and that’s pretty much it. When I lived in Los Angeles, I’d spend my Superbowl Sunday’s at Disneyland because the park wasn’t particularly crowded on that day. These days, Superbowl Sunday is, for me, no different than any other Sunday. I’m taking the Little Man to his swimming lesson this morning, making sure he gets a nap in this afternoon. I’m going to try to get in some work on a new story. And I’ve got a ton of reading that has piled up.
We have no plans to attend Superbowl parties or other game-related festivities. If the Giants were in the Superbowl, I might check the score every now and then, but I don’t plan on doing that this evening. I’ll find out who won when I get into the office tomorrow, I’m sure. Especially if the Ravens win. And I’ll say for the record that while I am not a fan of the game, if I had to pick a team that I wanted to win, it would be the Baltimore Ravens, and not just because they are named after an Edgar Allen Poe poem. It’s just that I simply can’t stand the San Francisco 49ers. (I can’t stand the San Francisco Giant in baseball, either.)
The best part of Superbowl Sunday for me is that it means that after today, football will be over and we’ll find ourselves only a few weeks away from the beginnings of spring training. Players will start to report, the weather will gradually start to warm up, and before you know it, opening day will be just around the corner.
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