Speaking only for myself, the greatest and weirdest Super Bowl of all time was the one my brother, Kelly, and I watched with Vincent and Albert M., at their parent's house just outside of Philadelphia when the New York Jets and Broadway Joe Namath upended the then-Baltimore Colts, led by Tom Matte subbing for the injured for most of the season legendary Johnny Unitas by a score of 16-7.
Not all the action, and definitely much of the physical contact, was not just on the field as my brother and I grew more and more uncomfortable while Vincent and Albert went from verbally sparring during the game, memory suggests just moments after the first half ended, to out and out brawling in front of the black and white portable television on the roll around cart.
I recall as the two wrestled and rolled on the floor Kelly thoughtfully repositioned the cart with the TV so that it didn't come crashing down on them as they continued to bang into it. Kelly had some experience with televisions and the power of gravity.
Trust me. It makes whatever Lady GaGa is doing for this half-time show pale in comparison. As for the game itself, I have little interest and even less knowledge of any of the players on either team. Please don't spend all of this coming week telling me how I should've watched it. I most certainly could have and still chose not to. Do the math,
I wish two things for The Game today: your team wins, whoever it is, and you shut the fuqq up about it ever after. Amen.