Unlike some international sports like basketball and soccer,
football is the only sole baby of America. For some people it’s a life
representing teamwork, determination, trust, passion, communication, and
manhood. The Super bowl is like the religion of that life, where Americans
praise and honor the two best teams of that year. Every season teams and fans
fight hard hoping and wishing to be one of those teams in the midst of the
battle. Companies spend millions for commercial spots to be played during the
game, Some great music artist gets the honor of singing the national anthem,
some other great artist gives a mini concert at half time, people fly around
the country for a seat in the stadium, and some people buy the biggest tv they
can afford to host a super bowl party. Men throw on their apron and work the
grill while the women make the “sides”, people drink and gather with friends
and family, and bets are placed in hope that someone’s favorite team will get
the ring at the end of the night. There’s usually a lot of excitement
accompanied with yelling, ooh’s, aah’s, curses, hope, and anticipation of the
next play.
This year the super bowl for me was a chance to be
surrounded around a family, something I don’t get that often because I’m so
many miles away from mine. I had the opportunity to go to professor’s house and
enjoy the super bowl. We had ribs, corn, greens, steak, strawberry shortcakes,
and lemonade, a meal that meant more to me this one day because normally I’d be
at my house entertaining guest and enjoying my mother’s cooking. My best friend
had 400 dollars at steak so every play was a turn in his stomach, while my idea
of football is nice looking buff men pushing each other around to see which
team is the best.
