Sixth Grade Journal: Super Bowl Memories Or Why I Should Have Been a Writer for Sports Illustrated

After watching that crazy Super Bowl game last night, (SPOILER ALERT!!!) where the New York Giants shocked the New England Patriots 17 to 14, I was inspired to open my Sixth Grade Journal... to see if I had ever written anything about the big game in 1986 between the Chicago Bears (click here to see the '86 Bears) and, again, the New England Patriots (click here to see the '86 Pats).

What I found was that I totally missed my calling in life. My journal coverage of Super Bowl XX was on par with some of the greatest sports writers in America.

It was better than, like, the sports coverage you get in your newspaper. I didn't just talk about the game, I talked about what I did that day leading up to the game, building suspense up until the part where I reveal the outcome.

I could have been a writer for Sports Illustrated, but I just didn't recognize my talent back then... Now I know... Now I know... And now I want you to know about the brilliant voice the sports world never got to hear:

1-20-86
On Sunday morning I woke up watched tv then my friend came over and we played coleco vision. After we finished playing I had a basketball game and we lost the game by three points and I scored six points. After the game I watched Super Bowl over my friends house and the Bears creamed them. When I got home I did my homework then went to bed.

Oh Ricky What a Pity: A Bowler's Brush With Perfection

There's been a lot of talk this week about the New England Patriots and "the perfect season" that they have a chance to complete after today's Super Bowl game against the New York Giants.

To get warmed up for this potentially historic game, I tuned into what I thought was a historic bowling match on ESPN Classic. I mean, why would they bother showing bowling on ESPN Classic unless it was an important can't-miss bowling match? Right?

And so I sat at the edge of my seat, cheering on Ricky Ward as he toyed with perfection, throwing strike after strike after strike... and when Ricky threw his eighth in a row, pointed his index fingers to the sky and brought them down to his hips as if they were guns going into holsters, I jumped up and screamed "Shoot those pins down Ricky! Shoot 'em down!!!"

He was like a machine. There was no stopping him. In fact, at one point, the announcer chimed in with a brilliantly clever homage to the Go-go's hit song Hey Mickey!: "Oh Ricky ... can't you understand... Nobody throws strikes like you Ricky."

And just when I thought the inevitable was about to happen -- perfection, a 300 game, a classic ESPN Classic moment -- Ricky left the seven pin standing. I paused on that last-standing pin with my DVR controller, and just stared at it for several minutes asking questions like: "Why pin? Why didn't you fall? And why did I waste my afternoon watching a non-classic bowling match on ESPN Classic?"

I don't know where Ricky is at now, if he's still bowling, or if he became a homeless drunk after missing his 300 chance... because most homeless people are former professional bowlers. Look it up... But wherever he is, I bet he's thinking about that seven pin. I know I'll be thinking about it for a while. And if you're Tom Brady and the New England Patriots, and you get a chance to read my blog before tonight's game, there's a lesson to be learned from Ricky. Don't let the seven pin get in the way of your dreams. Knock it down Tom. Knock it down.

Update: Giants 17 Patriots 14 ... apparently the Patriots didn't have a chance to read my blog.

Pre Super Bowl Week Is So Depressing

Why is the week before the Super Bowl always so depressing? I guess it's that way whenever you have any big event coming up, like a high school class reunion, the birth of your first child or the season finale of Rock of Love. The anticipation kills you. It, like, puts your life on hold until it finally happens and then you can move on.

I'm sitting here looking at the large bags of potato chips, pretzels and scoopable nacho chips and the six-pack of Sun Maid Raisins -- my favorite Super Bowl snack -- sitting on the counter unopened, all snacks I purchased for the party we're having for next week's big game. There's a seven-layer dip in the fridge, too, that my wife made ahead of time, just so the top layer has time to solidify and force you to break through with your chip to get to the gooey core. And I already made my signature kickoff cake (pictured, above). I probably should have waited on that one, so it would be fresher, but I suppose if it toughens up a bit its texture will be more authentic, like pigskin. And then there's a whole keg of O'Doul's on the back porch, getting chilled in the Michigan winter... the perfect beverage for a group of Super Bowl Sunday partiers who are concerned about getting to work on time on Monday.

And I already purchased my square in the office Super Bowl pool. I've been staring at my numbers for the past three days -- and will probably continue to do so throughout next week -- trying to figure out what scenario would enable both teams to have a score ending in 9. Maybe if the game ends up in a tie, like 29 to 29, then they would split the trophy and I would win the office pool... It could happen.

Well, it's officially past midnight, which makes it Saturday. That means we're only eight days away now. It's probably good. I'll need the extra time to figure out what roman numerals to use for this Super Bowl decoupage I'm doing for my party. It's totally going to blow people away. I can't wait! Seriously. I can't wait.