I am an old man and can’t stay up past midnight anymore writing; whether that be Lost recaps, diatribes on the lack of monkeys in government, or the annual Super Bowl diary. Rest assured, I will have it up here at some point tomorrow. In the meantime, gather ’round your water coolers and talk about the lack of any standout commercials and the refreshing vanishing act Ray Lewis pulled in the 2nd half. Until tomorrow…
Welcome back, one and all, to the annual tradition that’s going to be heavy on Tweets, bullet points and my patented shorthand and light on insightful commentary, witty repartee and actual football analysis. Expect lots of links to YouTube videos as well. Let’s get started!
Again, who made the decision to go with these “every year a generic p.o.s.” logos? Like many of football’s current ills, let’s blame commissioner Roger Goodell.
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Welcome to The Wayward Cynic’s annual running diary of the great American pasttime’s holiest of holy days: Super Bowl Sunday the 46th! I will cover the game, the commercials, the chips, the dips and the beers, all from the comfort of the Internet.
I miss the old, every-year-a-new-logo format these new logos woefully lack. Woe.
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Welcome to The Wayward Cynic’s annual running diary of America’s favorite pasttime: eating mass quantities of dip. Also, I’ll talk about some football as the valiant Packers take on the morally questionable Steelers in Super bowl XLV!
The always-imaginative Super Bowl logo is excited about something
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In what’s become an annual tradition right up there with Christmas and the Bills firing a coach, herewith is contained my latest Super Bowl running diary. The site is Joe Robbie Stadium in Miami, FL (I’ll be damned if I’m going to call it “Sun Life Stadium” adorned on the vinyl banners all over the place when the company just bought the naming rights a few weeks ago) and it’s the offensive juggernaut that is the Indianapolis Colts versus the team that’s captured the imagination of an America ready to root for an underdog from a city decimated by a natural disaster just a few short years ago, the New Orleans Saints. That was a hell of a run-on sentence, folks; let’s get started.
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Welcome to another Super Bowl Sunday, America. Despite my presence being required at a Super Bowl party with some friends, I vow nonetheless to bring you my trademark coverage featuring pithy commentary and scathing criticism of everything NBC puts on the air. There may be some good football as well; let’s hope.
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