Super Bowl madness/Charles Woodson, you've been avenged

The angst had to stop somewhere.

I've been bitching for months about how disinterested I am with sports, and I was going to boycott the Super Bowl this year.

What? Shocked that I’d miss what used to be my favorite day of the year?

Well, up until yesterday, that was the plan, but then I realized that would be the stupidest idea I've ever had (except for, you know, vodka pong, running around the block with no pants on in the middle of winter, headbutting things, starting a fire with an expired can of bug spray, etc.).

I ended up tagging along with Alex the Bastard and his girlfriend Jessica to one of her neighbor’s parties. I’m glad I did.

What unfolded Sunday was a cruel, sick joke that played out in calculated splendor after months of set up.

Oh the beautiful taste of heart break.

You have to understand, I hate Tom Brady. When his fumble that would have advanced my beloved Raiders to the AFC Championship Game back in 2002 was ruled an “incomplete pass”, my junior year of high school was ruined. I became weary of ice, it affected my handicap during golf season, and I burst into tears and/or fits of rage whenever schoolmates dropped things on the ground.

Since then I’ve loathed every bit of Brady’s ascent as the supposed best quarterback ever. All of a sudden this ass hat, who was a backup in college, was winning Super Bowls, making Pro Bowls, appearing on the cover of GQ, and trading in one super model for another like Cher trades in noses (work with me, I'm too lazy to think of a better comparison at the moment).

I’ve also taken it as a general practice to dislike anybody who has the butt-chin thing going on.

So Sunday was a beautiful day for me, and the setup couldn’t have been more perfect.

America’s Golden Boy led the Patriots to 18 straight wins and a perfect regular season and set a ton of records.

All he had to do was beat the New York Giants, a team the Patriots beat in the preseason and the regular season, in the Super Bowl today and he would have been the best player on the greatest team, and dynasty, in NFL history.

But Brady got beat. He fucking lost to the Lesser Manning as the Greater Manning looked on and smiled from the booth.

It was fucking glorious. Brady’s legacy was about to be capped as untouchable, but it was taken right out from in front of him as a national audience watched. It's probably the coolest bit of Karma ever.

What’s better is that Brady played like ass. The Giants harassed him all game with pretty much a four-man rush, and Brady looked rattled. He made more bad throws today than I’ve seen him make all season.

This was actually one of the better Super Bowls I’ve ever watched. The game was tense and low-scoring, which most of the crowd described as boring, but you knew the Patriots would take the lead and LM would have to make something happen to win.

The spread was also amazing, the commercials were great, and I managed to get 8 Sierra Nevada Pale Ale’s deep in about three hours.

And Tom Petty was on at halftime. I’ve had dreams about that kind of Super Bowl before. It was awesome.

So, in short, stick it Tom Brady, I'm going to watch Transformers for the 9 millionth time and fall asleep with a smile on my face.