Watch Football With Me

This is a pretty good weekend, if you like football.  If you don't, perhaps you want to come back tomorrow. Harp Fusion might appeal to you.
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"Since we're going to be home all afternoon, would it be okay to ask if you want to make cookies?"

The fact that Brenda Starr and I had pancakes at IHOP an hour ago did not deter me.

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The boys think this first game, Peyton Manning vs Tom Brady, is boring.  Watching between stirring and weighing and scooping cookie dough, it looks no different than usual to me.  I watch different colors run up and down the field, and sometimes I am even able to figure out which team is on offense before CBS superimposes an arrow on the field.

Think about that arrow.  It's not really there, yet it is. It's the same thing with the blue line of scrimmage  and the yellow first down marker. How do they appear on the field, under the feet of the players?  It's a mystery... the kind of place my mind wanders as different colors march up and down the field.
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Peyton Manning is tearing the Patriots apart, and I ache, just a little, for FAMBB and Messers 8 and 10. Big Cuter is beside himself as he waits for his beloved 49'ers to play in the second game. At this moment, I'm glad that my interest is so much less passionate than theirs.

I don't understand the attraction of watching others play, and yet I, too, have had my heart broken by total strangers, larger and stronger than I, who were unable to fulfill the promise I knew they had, hidden inside.

Yes, the DePaul Blue Demons left me bereft, just as the Patriots are piercing the hearts of New Englanders this afternoon, trying and missing the two point conversion, their deflated faces and shoulders telling a tale of defeat.
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Peyton Manning is another poster child for rehab. It's not enough that I have Gabby Giffords jumping out of airplanes. A guy with a repaired arm and a damaged neck is quarterbacking a Super Bowl bound team.

As Gabby said, every new achievement just shows me how far I have to go.
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"We need to score more points."

Bill Belichick actually said it at the press conference after the game, when asked what he would change next time. That's my standard line when I hear reporters ask it.

It's frightening to think that he and I share a sense of humor.
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And now we switch to Seattle, the loudest stadium in the NFL. It's neither domed nor miked; it was engineered to make it impossible to hear the count or an audible on the field.

Few people think that San Francisco can win in a stadium that has seen only one home team loss this season, but I refuse to believe that my boys will be sad at the end of the evening. TBG and Big Cuter have been paying close attention to every nuance of every play of every game, all season long, and, as long as the coaches pay attention to what they will be shouting at the screen, we should be fine.
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The 49'ers sacked the quarterback and recovered a fumble on the opening play but the Seahawk's defense held them to a field goal, denying them a touchdown but putting the first points on the scoreboard.

Now, I will wait for the phone to ring to see how we're feeling about it.
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TBG is pleased that the coaches have listened to his exhortations to blitz with NaVorro Bowman. Big Cuter agrees with the more aggressive play calling. Fumbling and then recovering a kickoff to start the second quarter was a little bit heart-stopping but now I'm looking for snacks since cookies have substituted for dinner for one of us.

Plus, the noise and tumult of cooking a real meal would be an unneeded distraction to the viewing experience.
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Colin Kaepernick, the running quarterback, brought them to fourth-and-inches and the offensive line held and Dixon went over for a touchdown and the boys are doing celebratory push-ups. The defense gives up a long pass and the Seahawks threaten but they are held to a field goal and I'm enjoying the afternoon.

NYTimes Crossword puzzles with a good pen in Elaine's Japanese paper box, crackers, the wedding album, a large print library book holding water, Stoli and Cran, cheese and crackers, 

and a knife for MOTG's amazing home made savory jelly.  Life is good.

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Our team lost.  The boys are waxing philosophical.  I finished my novel.  In two weeks we'll watch the Super Bowl, rooting for the Broncos but not investing much emotional energy in the outcome. It's my favorite way to watch.