Superbowl Sadness

By now you likely know we're Seahawks fans in the G-house. Don't go calling us bandwagon fans either. My first professional games were to see the 'Hawks back in '09 when no team in Washington state seemed to understand what winning was. Their colors are fun. Their fans are fierce. And finally, they've got a crew of fun-to-cheer-for players who can put some points on the board.

Last year I watched the Superbowl with J-Man. Ok, correction. Last year I watched the first half of the Superbowl with J-Man. I was still overly sleep-deprived, though, so that first play after halftime sealed the deal and I went to bed pretty confident we had it in the bag. J-Man silently celebrated the win so that I could rest until the next feeding. Times were different.

This year I told J-Man that I didn't want to host a party, or get a sitter, but I did want him to get the chance to actually shout at a TV during the game if he felt so inclined. Around five pm he set off to watch with some friends, and the little boys and I popped some popcorn and settled in for the first quarter.

We were serious.

And we like popcorn.

I also felt like I should watch the whole game (sentimental commercials included) since I'd assigned my students to be able to respond in Spanish how they reacted to the game's turnout - chapter four vocabulary always falls perfectly at this time of year, which makes it my favorite chapter for being something relevant that the kids really do want to use. but before I nerd out about authentic prompts for assessments...

I was watching the game.  And then I was listening to the game with my eyes shut. And then I was hoping it just stayed 24-21 the rest of the game. And then I was waking up with this weird feeling that the TV had gotten loud or something had happened or wait, what? We lost? Wilson got intercepted? Beast Mode didn't get to rush it in? Brady and his face got a trophy? My students would get to each, individually, tell me how they felt 'alegria' the next day as payback for me wearing my #3 jersey on Friday and taunting my Patriots fans?  what?!?!

Poor J-Man came home not too much later and we reminded ourselves (or, I reminded him) it's just a game. Nothing about our lives actually changed.

And the next day, our Amazon Prime package (the only way to shop) arrived. The boys, understanding nothing of seasons and endings and superbowls, put on the glasses so we could be "cool dudes" and excitement for next season again.

Or maybe, just maybe, excitement for seven months of football-free Sunday afternoons set in. Either way, it'll be ok.