Well, the Hawks lost, with a little help. I like to think that I am fair-minded enough that I would also be upset if the Steelers had been on the receiving end of such bad refereeing – yes, I would be upset. That was undeniably unfair, and nobody deserves that. No, not even the Rams. Dr.Bob was so mad he couldn’t get to sleep last night. Anyway. Props to the Steelers, they were awesome, and I wouldn’t have minded losing to them if it was fair, because I was just so pleased we made it to the Super Bowl at all. But this was uglier than necessary.
That was my first Super Bowl in a pub. It was fun, if loud, but the whole experience would have been better if I’d had a local hole to crawl into. As it was, the game ended around 4 a.m., and I got to hang out another hour in the bar with some very nice people, but also some distinctly creepy ones. Then I had to go to the train station, where I found out that the first train home leaves at 6:19, not 6:02 as I had thought, and from the other train station. So I went to the other station and found my train and got on it and there was some kind of problem that made it leave 15 minutes late and oh man was it hard to stay awake on that trip. But I’d very wisely brought my mp3 player, so the walk home (about a mile) was easily chugged with the help of the Hives. When I got home the boys were just finishing breakfast, and since I had my Doc Martens on anyway, I figured I might as well take the Sniglet to kindergarten. But walking slowly with a five-year-old is um, very different from charging along in time to Veni Vidi Vicious, as it happens. I practically fell asleep on my feet. So that is why I staggered into bed at 8 this morning. And the Best Husband in the Universe did not go to Munich today, even though he always goes to Munich on Mondays, so he was able to fetch the Sniglet from kindergarten and I was able to sleep until 1. I am so lucky.
And that was my football experience. No more Super Bowls in pubs. I’m getting too old for this.
Unless it’s the Seahawks again.