A surprising Super Bowl finish.

I've spent most of the day thinking about my obligatory post-Super Bowl update, and I'm still drawing a blank. Sure, I was rooting for the Saints. I think most of us were rooting for the underdog while secretly thinking we were going to watch Peyton Manning unleash pure annihilation on Drew Brees and his crew.

As the Saints were unable to convert a mere yard (two at most) into a touchdown twice in a row, I relinquished all hope for their win. Yeah, the scores weren't far off from one another, but the game seemed to be falling apart for New Orleans. The Indianapolis Colts are 11-1 when leading in the first half. Those are pretty outstanding numbers.

I watched The Who perform their old man half time show of songs most of us kind of know, but don't own any of the records to, while some guy next to me at the bar tried to justify their appearance at the big game. First of all, he compared them to the Rolling Stones. Um...no? Second, the Super Bowl is probably the most American thing ever. Why did the NFL get a British band to play? Daughtry would have been more appropriate. Third, they're old, and I thought it sucked. I think I'd rather watch Katy Perry lip synching while dressed as a banana. Seriously.

Major props to the Miller Lite crew who came in and gave us some cool football swag and free beers at the bar. Their personal thanks for being a Miller Lite drinker. Well, I would like to thank Nick's on Russian Hill in SF for having us, and also having $2 Miller Lites. The food is good, but you have to watch out for the bartenders who look a little worse for wear. You should really get some sleep before you go sling drinks all night. I know this from experience. And you look like shit. I don't want some hungover chick with greasy hair and bad makeup touching anything that comes near my mouth.

Okay, half time is over. Back to the game. Manning's hardware gliches, and New Orleans cornerback Tracy Porter takes the ball on a 74 yard field trip that changes everything. Suddenly the Saints are ahead, and the Colts just can't get it back together. Another turnover, and I sat there in total awe of what was happening. Manning looked to be scrambling with about three minutes left in the game. The reality was sinking in.

My friend's dad said it best. "I think Manning just shit his pants."

A great game, and proof that your whole life can change in the blink of an eye. Congratulations, New Orleans. That trophy was certainly well deserved this year.

So much for a sunny Super Bowl Sunday

It looks like the NFL has failed an attempt at giving the Indianapolis Colts a dry day to try and defeat the New Orleans Saints for the championship title this weekend. Southern Florida hasn't seen much sunshine in the past few days, and it doesn't look like the weather is going to let up any by the weekend.

It could just be the Indiana curse. Okay, I made that up, but have you ever been to Indiana?

Anyway, Miami isn't much of a picnic either, but I'm sure anything is an upgrade.

So, while NFL media officials scramble to have their backup plans stationed and ready to roll out, I'm just wondering how terrible the infamous Super Bowl commercials are going to be this year. With some usual big spenders cutting advertising budgets of at least 25%, and others completely off the market, that leaves a lot to imagination. With the way our national intellect seems to be dropping, I'm not expecting anything spectacular to be going down between plays this year.

If you tuned into the Grammys last night, you might understand what I mean.

I'm sure you're watching anyway though, right? I am...and I'm also secretly wishing they would have Taylor Swift playing half time instead of The Who. Just kidding...kind of.

Sick day, part un.

The one benefit of being home sick is the ability to indulge in endless amounts of recreational reading. Assuming you are up for anything other than sleeping or watching made for TV movies. I slept for most of the day, but I have finally had enough Emergen-C to do something other than zone out while looking at an LCD screen.

The brain is back on, and I have officially graduated to sitting up in bed with a laptop trying to pilfer through articles and emails in an attempt to give you something entertaining to read.

The New York Jets played a pretty decent hand this season. Aside from the occasional floundering rookie stuff, it's the best they have looked in years. Even though I went into yesterday's game believing they would not pass the Colts, I was slightly disappointed when they blew it in the second half. Oh well. Another Super Bowl that I will watch as indifferently as any other.

Congratulations to the badass Peyton Manning and his Colts, and to the New Orleans Saints as they make their first ever Super Bowl appearance. Although they only made it that far because Favre turned the ball over five too many times, and the refs blatantly made some questionable calls. But who am I to judge? All I do is get opinionated, and share it with strangers on the internet.

My winding wheel.

My wonderful world of sports hasn't really done anything exciting for me lately. Yes, I know that football is drawing near a close. Yes, I know the Jets are playing today. I will watch the game. I will cross my fingers for bad calls against the Colts in Indianapolis. I will hope that our rookie quarterback can throw long and actually connect. I will not hold my breath.

Let's have a bit of a reality check as you cock your eyebrow at me right now. I just don't like to set myself up for disappointment. If we get an unexpected win (as we did with the Chargers), I will be pleasantly surprised. Awesome.

I'm loosely paying attention to everyone in then MLB aside from the Dodgers making deals. Signing Juan Padilla gives us an idea of how you start building a pitching staff. Aside from that, I'm beginning to wonder what our opening day lineup is going to look like. I look forward to trips to Arizona for spring training.

I also look forward to March Madness. While I also pay little attention to college basketball until the end of February, I get really into it about then. And when it's over, it's basically baseball season, and my life is pretty good for the next six months.

What I'm trying to say is that I know this has been stale since I pledged to be more exciting in the new year, but it's not my fault sports hasn't given me anything juicy enough to rag about. I'm feeling antsy, and I apologize if it is rubbing off on you.