Super Bowl Sunday has arrived in 2012, and the teams are the New York Giants and The New England Patriots. After working their way through a 16 game season, each team also worked their way through playoff games to get to the big ending. With music, sportscaster galore, and an audience of millions if not billions it will take place. The hype of the Super Bowl by the NFL is amazing as is the viewers it draws in. Money flows like water during and after it and lasts into the next season come September.
When I was a kid, Super Bowl Sunday consisted of a morning of working with Dad around the house to repair and rebuild it for a couple of hours, Then an afternoon of shopping for groceries for the big game and preparing the menu and chips and pretzels and drinks. By the time we finished it all, we had supper, snacks, and places assigned and picked out in the livingroom for it all.
I remember dad would sit in his lazy boy recliner all comfy and I on the couch next to him. We would shoot the shit as the pre-game began and listen to all the things said about each team and their stars. Then there was of course the injury reports, and we would argue who was really injured and who wasn’t and why.
Finally the game would start, and not a pin could be heard to drop in the house, the women, my mother and sister would disappear and all that remained was me and dad staring at a 27 inch tv screen. We would discuss calls and plays picked and why they worked or didn’t. Turnovers were big events that always decided the game, and dad and I would yell and scream at the screen and players. Always once the game was decided and we knew the best was over, suddenly like a magic switch, dad’s eyes would close and the snoring began. Ah, the good old Super Bowl events with dad.
Dad usually had one team and I the other for each game. We would cheer, yell, scream and even bounce in our seats with emotions of joy to despair. Amazingly, no one hurt themselves of course or anyone else. After the Game ended we discussed the game, who won and why and which players starred and which ones stunk too. It is a past time of enjoyment, we had together and both loved.
Then there was the spring coming, as Spring Training would start for Major League Baseball. The Red Sox would begin training in Florida and the Season would begin on time. Dad and I would discuss pitchers, hitters, managers and schedules. We would spend spring and summer watching the Red Sox rise and fall out of contention each year. For us it was tradition to know about Boston’s traditional slide from contention in September, expected as it was each year.
Dad would tell me how the Red Sox traded The Babe to New York and brought upon themselves the curse. Funny, but who would have thought Dad would believe in such things!. Yet he did!
Before the Red Sox finally won a World Series again, Dad passed away from cancer at a young age of 59 years old. No more, do we prepare the same for big games, nor share a livingroom and stare at a 27 inch screen screaming. No more do I hear dad telling me what defense a team plays, or how they will score next. No more are the chips and drinks laid out carefully, the pizzas bought or home-made prepared. No more is dad here to see and share it all with me.
As I sit here and remember it all, dad, in his brown lazy boy recliner I bought him for Father’s Day years ago, and me on the couch, sharing it all just so. That is what Super Bowl Sunday is for me, a tradition of remembering dad and the fun we had together. Thats my Greatest Super-Bowl Memory of all, God Bless ya Dad!. Yes, Dad the Red Sox did finally win the World Series more than once!.