Midwest Mountain Sports Report 2/8/21
It’s late Monday morning, and I’m still nursing a Super Bowl hangover. There’s the reaction in the literal sense, as I have not met my required water intake to offset the beer and teriyaki chicken wings I consumed during the Big Game. And to cap that off, there’s the emotional hangover of enduring yet another Tom Brady Super Bowl victory, this time in shockingly unassailable fashion (that is, of course, unless you’re Tyrann Mathieu assailing Mike Evans downfield). I kid, it wasn’t the refereeing that lost the game for the Chiefs. We will get into what went wrong for them, but before we do that, I want to acknowledge a desire for “normalcy” that many people wish for in this year. And to that I say, Tom Brady won another Super Bowl. What else is new? We seem to be heading in the right direction on that front.
I’m less concerned with digging into the X’es and O’es of the coverage schemes that Todd Bowles and the Tampa Bay defense used to stymie the Chiefs offense, officially making them appear mortal for the first time that I can recall. It’s admirable, and has received due credit from the writers who are paid to analyze this information and present it in a digestible fashion. I do neither of these things; I’m just here for the wings, baby! And to that end, I’m more deflated by the fact that Tom Brady and the Tampa Bay defense ruined my Super Bowl viewing experience.
I felt that I had prepared in all of the right ways this year. My wife and I had nowhere to go for a Super Bowl party, as our friends are the responsible type who believe in science, and we love them dearly for that fact. We too are these informed, sensible people, which meant keeping present company for the game excluded to our household. Therefore, our first down, so to speak, was securing a peaceful environment in which to watch the game.
We have two young daughters, both under the age of three. Sitting still and letting Dada watch a football game are not two of their specialties, but I think they sensed the awesome power that is the Super Bowl viewing experience. My eldest asked only once to watch “her movies”, and when I gently, but sternly declined (a tricky balance to maintain as a parent, I’ll have you know) she got the message. Mission accomplished.
The next best thing to watching the game is watching the game with the appropriate assortment of delectable junk food that I otherwise abstain from eating throughout the year. Super Bowl Sunday is my excuse to indulge in soda, chips, and more than one beer, thank you very much. I was a dedicated fan all season, I won my fantasy football league, so you’ll excuse me if I felt that I earned a third or fourth beer. It was -18 degrees yesterday in snowy Minnesota, and I wasn’t driving anywhere. Mission accomplished.
With snacks in hand, led by my chicken teriyaki wings, and my daughters graciously entertaining each other in the living room, there was nothing left to do but to enjoy the game. Which I did, for about a quarter and a half. However, once it became clear in the second quarter that Kansas City was incapable of shaking Tampa’s “sticky” defense, (to borrow a football playoff phrase from Tony Romo) my enjoyment was doomed to fail. The Chiefs have eked out more than one win this season when their offense simply didn’t have it, and they did it by being able to pull the opposing defense down to their level.
Tampa didn’t take the bait, bolstered by a seemingly relentless assault from Ndamukong Suh blowing up the middle of the line while Shaquil Barret and Jason Pierre-Paul zipped in from the edges like three velociraptors taking down Jurassic Park hunter Robert Muldoon. If the offensive line fences have lost their electric juice, there’s nothing left to do but for the beasts to feast. And feast they did.
The drubbing was so decisive that I had a flashback to Super Bowl 50, and recalled the criticisms from anyone not backing the Orange Crush that the Broncos had delivered a boring Super Bowl victory. At the time I found the game to be riveting, with Von Miller, Malik Jackson and DeMarcus Ware kicking the crap out of the Panthers. I suppose that the same sentiment could be felt by only the Tampa fans, and the residual Brady hangers-on. Defense still wins championships, but the offense wins our attention. I suppose we all have Rob Gronkowski to thank for that, and if not for him this Super Bowl game would be right up there with the all-time duds.
Gronk Smash indeed.
Midwest Mountain Sports Report 