Superbowl Shmooperbowl.

Yes, I realize that yesterday was the Superbowl, and other than giggling over using terms like “Tight-end”, and “Deep penetration”, I couldn’t be bothered much with it. Especially not to blog about it. It killed all of my regularly scheduled TV watching. I was feeling downright stabby.

Now that it’s over, I feel the need to reflect on my deep and fiery hatred for all things football, and especially all things Superbowl.

Yeah, I watched part of it. I’ll admit it. I swore to the heavens that I wouldn’t, but I did; 90% for the commercials and 10% so if there was some “GAME CHANGING PASS” I wouldn’t be the only one on the planet to miss it, and let’s be honest, i’m too fucking lazy and don’t care enough to google for that shit once it’s over.

Regardless of that embarrassing fact, I still HATE the Stuperbowl. It’s not a woman thing, let’s not be sexist here, it’s a ME thing. Allow me to list the reasons why, and see if perhaps you can relate.
We will start at the beginning.

1. I was born January 30th. Before the tragedy of September 11th happened, the Stuperbowl used to occur on the LAST Sunday of ever January instead of the first Sunday of every February.
Can you guess whose birthday landed on game day every couple of years? Yep. Mine.
Cue me, sitting alone in a room with a birthday cake at an adults Stuperbowl party while no one paid a single bit of attention to me because they were too busy screaming at the boob tube. That is a recipe for some seriously bitter feelings as an adult.

2. I became a cheerleader. GASP! AFTER HATING THE SUPERBOWL?!?! Yes. Because it seemed like the cool thing to be doing and I hated every other sport and wanted to wear a cute uniform. I only lasted on the sideline for one season. Why? Because I was bored to tears and wanted to do something more challenging than watching asshole pre-teen boys run back and forth for 4 hours. After that I moved to competitive cheerleading. No more watching a game or cheering for someone else, I was cheering for my OWN damn glory. This fueled the fiery hatred I already had inside for football.

3. Holden was born. There is no denying that Holden was a FAT baby. So fat that his rolls had rolls. Any time we took him in public, any time anyone saw him, their INSTANT comment to us (or to him) would be something along the lines of “YOU’RE GOING TO BE A LINEBACKER WHEN YOU GROW UP AREN’T YOU?!”
HEY! TWATBAG! Just because he’s a BIG baby does NOT MEAN HE WILL PLAY FOOTBALL. Could you BE any more stereotypical?
As you can tell, i’m still a little sour about all the backhanded “damn you have a fat baby” comments. I take out this sourness on my already deep seeded hatred of Football.

Check, and mate. There is no coming back for tossing back and forth a ball made of pig skin and large men in tight pants slamming into each other for what feels like an endless amount of time. Not even the “Tight Ends” can lure me to like it. Not even the cute or funny, or god forbid cute AND funny commercials. And ESPECIALLY not Madonna. Sorry y’all, just no. She is the QUEEN, I realize this… but no.

I’m guessing there are some new folks agreeing with me in the form of Pats fans; which is why I still say we should have gone with my original plan of them BOTH losing.

Posted on February 6, 2012 by Holdin' Holden 3 Comments
Holdin' Holden

About Holdin' Holden



  • I completely understand. I hate football. Only watched the Superbowl cause of husband watching it…and he fell asleep before halftime cause it was boring. I have never understood football and hubby used to play it in high school. I totally offended him one year when he was trying to explain football to me. My response was “Until you can explain why a bunch of meatheads are trying to kill each other over a piece of pigskin in a way that I understand, I’m not going to understand anything else about the game.” He didn’t talk to me the rest of the night. LOL

  • I have never read a blog of your’s that I didn’t find hilarious and on point, until now. I understand the birthday thing, my older sister’s birthday falls the same week as Christmas and I don’t remember her ever even getting a party. On the other hand, I have a couple friends who, like you, have birthdays in close proximity to SB Sunday and they take advantage of it in that they can always find a party that they can call their own. But, besides the birthday issues and the hatred of football in general, I can’t understand people that can’t/don’t take it for what it has become, a national holiday and a darned good reason to get together with people and enjoy their company.

  • You don’t have to understand- as you are not me. And I never impede on the joy others might find in the day,it’s just not for me!