Good grief, what the bloody hell do the Yanks see in American Football? I stayed up until 2 in the morning last night to watch as much as I could of the Superbowl – beaming live, straight into my front room from Florida, the sunshine state….….
It absolutely pissed down all through the game. Goddam stair rods, cats and dogs mingled freely with horse liniment, testosterone and cocaine dust. Consequently, the ball (or Goddam bar of Goddam soap as the locals call it) was just impossible to control. I couldn’t make up my mind if I was watching a 5 hour programme of adverts, occasionally interrupted by a shot of a steroid-stuffed line-backer dropping the Goddam ball – or the other way round.
It was all very confusing, the rules seemed to be made up as they went along….. I haven’t a clue who won, but I suspect the advertising space sellers were having a bit of a whoopy-do somewhere on the Strip….….
The pre match entertainment was a bit weird. Some ex-player was being interviewed saying the Superbowl was the biggest Goddam sporting occasion on Earth. (Has he never heard of the World Cup – or even the European Champion’s League Final, or even the FA Cup Final, or even the Beezer Homes Division 2 Knockout Challenge Trophy?)
Billy Joel sang the Star Spangled Banner (music composed by an Englishman incidentally). There, in the rain, the 500 players and 800 baseball capped coaches that made this spectacle what it is suffered collective bottom lip wobble. Those big, big beefy men, comedically bound from head to toe in spandex and metal were united by rivers of tears. The camera panned out to the crowd, they too were crying for America. What with the rain and the tears and the rain and more rain, were we looking at a flood risk?
I gazed on, breathing heavily, coughing, gulping. But I couldn’t stop twin trickles, then floods of salty water meandering down my cynical cheeks.
Yes, Billy Joel really was that crap......