By W.T. WIMPY HIROTO
What I don’t suffer through for these weekly visits. OMG and Heavens to Betsy, but no, I don’t need a shoulder to cry on. But aside from a Pulitzer or Nobel, shouldn’t there be recognition for effort? How much do I love thee, let me count the ways …
In the aftermath of Super Bowl XLIX, allow CR2S to be the first to remind you that next year will be a simple “L.” Now, let’s find the column hidden somewhere under all the tears and jeers, confetti and heart palpitations.
For openers, this was the first time in 49 years I didn’t bet on the game. So you ask, how could I not? To begin with, my preferred Green Bay Packers had been eliminated, which left two rather blah options: My dislike for Pete Carroll has been well chronicled; on the other side, how can a true fan root for a team that fudges? As far as I was concerned, you had overpaid athletes on both sides who either wouldn’t talk or talked too much; the same with the coaches.
So reluctantly I informed *#3 son that I would forego making my annual wager. Although preferring the Patriots, I decided maybe it would be fun not making a bet, thus watching the game unencumbered by monetary concerns and writing about the experience. An intriguingly new approach. [*Jeff makes the Las Vegas trek every year, making it possible to make last-minute adjustments; significant when dealing with point spreads and over/unders.]
[I’ve often referenced Sisyphus. He’s the Greek dude who was destined to push a huge boulder up an incline, only to have it roll back before ever reaching the top. An example of commitment and perseverance, but also a message to gamblers: Striving to achieve is admirable. But in the end there is no ecstasy, only agony.]
So I had today’s column outlined and drafted by Sunday morning. I mean, shoot, with no financial interest on the outcome, who cares what a Seahawk player said or didn’t say; and which Bostonian had the longest Pinocchio nose. I even figured to have time to pay attention to the *halftime show and check out this Katy Perry gal. She’s a current female (out)rage, but this musical has-been doesn’t shuck&jive/rock ‘n’ roll no mo’ so all that writhing and wiggling is another CR2S never-no-mind. And the persistent bugaboo: I can’t understand lyrics as they are sung these days. [*Had prepared a prime rib dinner with rice and miso soup for halftime. Kinda lonesome, but the price to pay for good company.]
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It turns out to be probably the most exciting game ever played! Quite a label to bestow. Until Sunday that ranking was held by the ill-fated USC/Texas Rose Bowl game of 2006, or whenever it was (too lazy to Google). In irony of ironies, it was the most ignoble defeat of Coach Carroll’s illustrious (collegiate) career. Now he has two.
So now here I sit, caught between a rock and a not very hard place.
Maybe I’m turning into a softie. Rather than take sadistic pleasure in watching a too-crafty Petey twist and turn in an ill wind, a zephyr of sympathy exists. The fact I blew an opportunity to make several bucks off the Patriot victory doesn’t matter either. Other than being a classic sporting event that will live in infamy, today is Wednesday and tomorrow is Thursday.A pair of I’s, Iran and Israel, easily displace two Bs’, Belichick and Brady, in importance. Life goes on. Let’s get on with it.
Maybe if Hawvuud had a noncom presence in a war, any war, instead of only a safe Washington, D.C. presence, I’d feel better. And since I took basic training at Fort Lewis (North Fort), WA, a pre-Starbucks Seattle doesn’t hold warm memories either.
Since I’m in such an ambivalent (and belligerent) mood, please to excuse while I throw my other two most “don-ko” dislikes, Kobe Bryant and Tiger Woods, under a toilet plunger. Despite high-powered crisis-control PR firms (and doting, flummoxed sportswriters), nothing can turn these two egotistical, arrogant has-beens into unfairly misunderstood good guys.
Easy to jump on when they’re both in a downward spiral? You bet! But at least CR2S has been consistently anti- over many, many years. But can’t get ahead of myself. I know Woods will win another major. And Bryant will return amidst rockets’ red glare next year. As far as Carroll is concerned, chances are good he’ll make another championship run because he has a good (young) team, a long-term contract and Microsoft money backing.
So Crossroads to Somewhere will undoubtedly have to retreat into the Cave of Retribution or swim upstream in the River Styx. Whatever. It’ll be like life itself: High and low, top and bottom, happy and sad. Don’t care, do so. It was only a football game, but now in danger of turning into a philosophical debate. Whistle. Penalty flag. Time out.
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Upon further review, the call on the field is reversed: there was no illegal use of words so there will be no penalty.
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W.T. Wimpy Hiroto can be reached at williamhiroto@att.net Opinions expressed in this column are not necessarily those of The Rafu Shimpo.