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What Do You Do While Everyone Else on The Planet Watches the Super Bowl?
I write and watch for the commercials. And this year the poetry. Oh, and fighting systemic racism.
A little background. I grew up in Friday Night Lights. The real ones.
The football stadium lights were the brightest lights in our small Texas town that sported only one stoplight.
We were there in those stands, under those damned lights, every Friday night from September through December, because we had a winning team. Rain or shine, sleet or hail. All of which we had sometime or another in those months. Four months of every year, every Friday night. Whether we wanted to be there or not. And I didn’t. Go Team!
And did I mention it was an all white town? No diversity for us, on the field or off.
Then I attended college at a university with a losing team. What a huge relief, although it is sacrilege in Texas to say so. Fortunately for them, the TCU horned frogs are now part of the Big Twelve, and mostly win, or so I’m told.
So, although I know all about football, it’s not my sport. Thank goodness my son didn’t want to play. Basketball is so much more civilized. No tackling, at least legally, and, best of all for me as a parent and…
