I’m not excited this year. I’m really not.
Naturally, this is mostly because I find no reason to get excited about watching the Patriots win the Super Bowl yet again. Their victory in the AFC Championship game was dispiriting enough, and it’s not like I care one way or the other about the Chiefs. But the inevitably of the Patriots victory was soul crushing, similar to when they beat the Falcons in the Super Bowl a couple of years ago. Real talk, we were hosting a party for that particular Super Bowl, and after the Patriots won in overtime, the collective deflation of everyone present was so pronounced that, as our guests were leaving, I felt compelled to apologize to them for even showing up.
Those were dark days. Trump had been sworn in, and my hope for a better future was essentially dead. (I suppose it still is, but I’m used to that now.) I spent most of my waking moments waiting for nuclear war to break out over some petty bullshit. And here was football, serving not as the distraction all entertainment is ostensibly meant to be, but rather another reminder of the fundamental sadness of modern society: no one but the established elites can ever win.
Most of the Patriots’ success has felt like the result of a right-wing conspiracy. Their name is the Patriots, and their first Super Bowl victory came immediately after 9/11. Their coach is a joyless chud, and those of his assistants who have gotten their own head coaching jobs have invariably proven to be incompetent humorless chuds. They are known cheaters, to a degree that doesn’t seem worth remarking on anymore. Their quarterback is an anthropomorphic MLM seminar. They win constantly, and it’s never appeared to me that they enjoy winning all that much. They win simply because they can, and they’re expected to. Ayn Rand would love these assholes.
And here they are, in the Super Bowl for the third consecutive year, their fourth appearance in the last five seasons. I’m so sick of these guys that I cannot move myself to give a shit about what is otherwise a pretty intriguing game. Belichick vs. McVay is a hell of a coaching showdown. The Patriots reign of terror has come full circle: their first Super Bowl win was as underdogs against the Rams, and now they face the Rams as the favorite. And heck, the Patriots lost last year, so in theory it could happen again. It should be a pretty good game!
But all the Patriots’ Super Bowls have been good games. That hasn’t made it any easier to watch them hoist the Lombardi Trophy time and time again. It merely underscores what all of us know to be true in our hearts, despite our protestations. The Patriots are inevitable. Death and taxes don’t have shit on these guys. The final score will be close, and yes, I must briefly concede that said score will have show the Rams on top once the final whistle blows. But I’m not counting on it, and neither should you. Naturally, I advise all of you of a gambling persuasion to take the Patriots at -2 ½.
If you watch the game Sunday, have all the fun you want. Drink all the beer and smoke all the weed and eat all the wings or pizza or chili or whatever you’re planning on. Personally, I’ve found gustatory excess the best way to make the game fun regardless of the result. Have all the fun you want. Just prepare to be bummed out at the end.
Rob Writes About Whatever 