5:30 – The fun begins. Me and the wife arrive with baby in tow. Yup, we’re “those guys” who brought the kid to the Super Bowl party. It’s a dicey situation, granted, but getting a sitter on Super Bowl Sunday is a bitch and a half. Even if you do, rates double and you’re out a cool fitsky by night’s end. Luckily, the party is 50% female and they’re more interested in the boy than me, my wife or the game.

5:31 – The top is popped on the evening’s first Amstel Light.

5:32 – Said bottle of Amstel is now resting comfortably in the recycle bin.

5:37 – And the game begins! No, not the Super Bowl – there’s still 45 minutes of tedious pre-show nonsense to go before that – but the foosball tournament. I’m in a new environment; a road team feeling a bit like Tampa Bay in the deep freeze of Lambeau Field. After an initial shocking loss, my teammate and I come back strong to win the best-of-three series, but in an embarrassing post-game celebratory snafu, we can’t decide on a high-five. I go up, open-handed, he goes straight at me, close-fisted. I try to rebound, closing my fist and going down low, but I’m too late. We wind up looking like those idiots who turn opposite ends of a corner at the same time and can’t seem to pass each other, shifting left and right and left and right.

6:02 – I think someone slipped a few Vivarin in Beyonce’s pre-gig water bottle. She’s spinning on stage like a flamenco dancer on crack, just spurting out the occasional “yeah!” The evening’s first “I’m really embarrassed for you” moment.

6:12 – I still get angry that they have Celine Dion singing “God Bless America” now. She’s Canadian! Doesn’t this bother anyone else? A Canadian! Singing “God Bless America.” I have nothing against Canadians, hell, I love the goofy bastards, but couldn’t we get an American to sing this song? Am I being completely politically incorrect?

6:15 – That old saying goes, be careful what you wish for…now I’ve got the Dixie Chicks caterwauling through the National Anthem. I feel like that guy in THE ROCK who gets exposed to the deadly VX gas. Gagging, skin bubbling, twitching…

6:18 – And the game begins! And it’s actually the Super Bowl! Yes, in this day of concerts, parties, events and commercials, there’s actually a game to be played. Go Bucs! (It’s at this point I should state my stance on the game. I don’t love the Bucs but I do dislike the Raiders. Really, anyone could’ve been playing the Raiders and I’d be rooting against them. As much as I don’t like the Raiders, I really don’t like Rich Gannon. What a horrible, smug, little prick. And has there been a more horrendous official headshot of an athlete ever. Ever?)

6:20 – The first great commercial of the night: The Clydesdales “Instant Replay” clip. I’m so sick of those dumb Budweiser horses but I thought this was well-done. Plus I appreciate gratuitous use of the word “jackass.”

6:21 – We’re mere minutes into the game and the baby spits his ziti out of his mouth, onto the carpet (white, natch) and begins to stomp on it with his boots. I start dropping more f-bombs than Joe Pesci in GOODFELLAS as chaos ensues.

6:22 – “Do we have any Resolve?” Ahh, the joys of parenthood.

6:23 – From what I can hear in the kitchen, the Super Bowl sure sounds like a fun game.

6:32 – I get the call that THE HULK trailer is on. I jump up, dropping baby and food on the ground. Must see HULK!

6:33 – I liked the HULK trailer but I didn’t love it. I wanted to be so obsessed I’d be downloading it over and over again today on the web. I felt no tingle up and down my spine. It was cool, the Hulk/tank hammer throw money shot was very cool, but something was missing. A certain je ne sais quoi.

6:37 – Hot dog, the food is ready! I load up on ziti and a Sloppy Joe (I made it extra sloppy for ya!).

(This is around the point where I completely lose track of time. A few beers into the evening left me a little sluggish and unwilling to keep checking the clock and writing the time down. I will try to keep this all in chronological order though.)

THE MATRIX RELOADED/REVOLUTIONS trailer was next and I missed the first few seconds chasing the baby around the kitchen. But from what I saw, I wasn’t all that impressed. Okay, let me clarify. I was definitely impressed with the special effects. Flawless work there. Conceptually, though, I just felt the weirdest sense of déjà vu. A little bit of the old been there, done that. I know it’s not the fault of THE MATRIX or the Wachowski Bros since it was the countless rip-offs that watered down “bullet time,” but that just doesn’t wow me any more. Keanu zipping through space like a torpedo didn’t drop my jaw either. Come to think of it, maybe it’s just Keanu. As cool as THE MATRIX is/was, wouldn’t it have been 100 times cooler with a different actor?…

I think in-between the MATRIX trailer and the TERMINATOR trailer there may have been some football, but I can’t remember. I know there was drinking, I’m quite sure there was eating but football? Maybe…

As for TERMINATOR 3, again I couldn’t help but feel a little nonchalant about the whole thing afterwards. I guess this was for the people who missed the trailer attached to THE TWO TOWERS. Sadly, Claire Danes is absent from this ad.

And the whistle blows. It’s halftime and this party quickly switched over to the SNL Weekend Update special to avoid another year of lip-synching and men in leotards waving ribbons and flags. The Gene Shalit and Gollum bits were pretty funny and so were a few of the news items but how horrendously unfunny was the Jimmy Fallon, especially the 70s psychedelic band routine? He was dropping worse bombs than the Enola Gay. Not to sound like a playa hater here but Jimmy Fallon may be the most overrated performed on the history of SNL. If he didn’t have such a following among the ladies, there’s no WAY he could’ve gotten that bit on air. (For those who are counting, this is the second “I’m embarrassed for you” moment.) The room was deathly silent. Even the girls who were swooning over Jimmy Fallon couldn’t muster even a smile. Finally someone had to order the channel changing.

I don’t doubt Jimmy Fallon can one day be a successful actor, he’s just not that funny. I think he could be charming in a little romantic comedy or something but I think the longer he stays on SNL, the more he hurts his post-game career. Punch out Jimmy, while there’s still time.

I turned back to ABC in time to catch some of Shania Twain’s public humiliation (the third “I’m embarrassed for you” moment). A lot has been said about her performance (or lack thereof) so I won’t go through it all here. I will say I was a huge fan of Shania’s backup band. Not since the 1989 Video Music Awards have I seen an over-the-shoulder keyboard and double-headed guitar both on stage at the same time. What a throwback. If only they had a guitar shaped like a heart…

While I’m thinking about it, allow me to apologize to Jennifer Garner who apparently read my column last week and was determined to show off just how hot Hot Jennifer Garner can be in those “Alias” spots. One of my buds called me out on it and there’s wasn’t much I could say. Damn, she looked good. Damn good.

The game has started up again and the Bucs are off and running. While Jon Gruden was in the Tampa locker room giving a “win one for the Gipper” speech, the Raiders must’ve been sitting there watching Gwen Stefani and Sting sing “Message in a Bottle.” They could’ve used Nick Nolte in BLUE CHIPS. Come in, throw some things, turn over a water dispenser….shake things up. The Raiders just came out dead.

The next commercial that caught my eye was for CHARLIE’S ANGELS 2. I didn’t like the first one but I can’t help but be caught up in the marketing for this new one. Maybe it’s just Bernie Mac as Bosley. What a fantastic bit of casting that was. And I will admit I’m curious to see Demi Moore’s return to acting/bikini-wearing. There was a brief glimpse of her in the commercial but I would’ve like to have seen a little more. I’m sure the movie will suck but maybe if they edit it down to a 5-minute commercial, then I’ll like it.

It’s the third quarter and it’s now official – Rich Gannon is a chucker. He’s getting desperate back there thinking, Hey I’m the MVP, I can win this thing by myself and now he’s just chucking up these wounded ducks. Another one intercepted by the Bucs. Dunt-dunt-dunt…Another one by the Bucs…and another one’s gone and another one’s gone, another one by the Bucs, yeah.

Is anyone else scared of DAREDEVIL? I want so bad to like this movie and for all I’ve heard of the film, including Kev’s gushing praise, is that it’s great but the trailers and ads so far have all planted the seed of worry in my mind. I’m going to go see it no matter what and I’m sure most of you will but when a movie like this opens on Valentine’s Day, we need to convince our significant others that going to see a movie about a blind guy in red tights is a fine way to spend a romantic evening. These commercials aren’t getting the job done. Let’s keep our fingers crossed.

Speaking of mediocre trailers, I wasn’t thrilled with much of anything I saw this Sunday. Beyond the ones I’ve mentioned so far, ANGER MANAGEMENT and BRUCE ALMIGHTY were both low on laughs despite my feelings that the films HAVE to be funny. BAD BOYS 2 is just such a ridiculous concept that I can’t even believe it’s actually happening and that they’re actually still singing the “Bad Boys” song.

Okay, so I’ve seen all the commercials I’ve been waiting to see and the Bucs have officially squashed any chance of a Raiders comeback so it’s back to the foosball table. I’m in a defensive zone. I’m like Pittsburgh’s Steel Curtain defense. My only flaw is that I keep scoring on myself. This keeps the score closer than it should be but we still win.

The baby has gotten his second wind and is scampering around the kitchen like a baboon. It’s WAY past his bedtime (and mine) and now he’s just plain hyper.

The game is almost over and nobody at the party won anything in their pools. But wait! With :7 seconds left the Bucs intercept Gannon again (setting two Super Bowl records in the process and the fourth and final “I’m embarrassed for you” moment) and run it back for a touchdown! The score is now 47-21 and we realize that’s someone’s numbers and they just won a couple hundred bucks! Everyone stands up, cheers, claps, hoots, hollers and than we all realize…the extra point. Blast. It’s like winning the lottery and dying the next day. Isn’t it ironic? Dontcha think?

Being a Jersey boy, I should be more excited that BON JOVI is playing the post-game concert but I know they’re not gonna play “Bad Medicine” or “Lay Your Hands on Me,” so it’s a wash. I think everyone else felt the same from the look of the field. It was Jon, Richie, Tico, those other two guys and the janitor sweeping up the field. I’m not even sure how Bon Jovi hoodwinked the American public into thinking they were this great band. Even when they were “great” they weren’t that great. Why are we now thinking, many years past their prime, that they’re this big-time rock band? Meanwhile, DEF LEPPARD is opening up a Wal-Mart in Duluth. How sad.

So we’ve reached the end. I got drunk, ate too much, lost track of time and missed much of the game as I chased a fat wee one around. Apologies for the scattered thoughts but this has been a crazy week. My computer is currently on the fritz – I’m hanging at the Windows splash screen (any advice, drop me an e-mail) – and I’m planning this big trip out West. Which brings me to my next point…

I might have missed the oh-la-la first full screening of JERSEY GIRL this past week, but I am going to California with an achin’ in my heart this weekend for a little Poop Shoot-related bitness. Ryall’s booked up all weekend and Kev’s busy working on his baby so I’m all by my lonesome. As such, if any West Coasters want to show me the finest strip clubs (female please) in L.A., drop me an e-mail. I’ve only got Saturday night free, but that should be enough time to expense a bunch of hookers and drugs to my Poop Shoot account. Oh wait, there is no Poop Shoot expense account. Never mind...

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