I hate football, I find it to be pretty dull on the whole: an anemic twelve minutes of action, dotting the landscape of a sixty-minute contest, drawn out over an interminable three-and-a-half-hour broadcast. And my a-hole stepdad, an ex-Marine, was a huge fan, even played at Michigan. Yes, that Michigan. He was a recovering alcoholic and a habitual gambler. That pretty much guaranteed my lasting distaste for the sport.
Needless to say, I haven't watched a Super Bowl in many, many years. But for some reason I did tune in last night, and saw the better part of the game, including all of the final quarter. I must admit, last night's fourth quarter was exciting by any measure of any sport: lots of action, plenty of lead changes, some big plays, and a dramatic finish. Even some douchebaggery! But the dude who caught the fuckin ball with his fuckin head is the fucking man. Tip o' the hat to you, Tyree! You and Eli are kings for a day.
I suppose Super Bowl XLII defined what makes football exciting to fans.