Misery Loves Company

Ughhhh! At least two things can be said about the Super Bowl for us Eagles fans: 1) our celebrity introducer, the Fresh Prince of BelAir, vs. theirs, the freiking Commish, was a no brainer win for Philly - we should have quit while we were ahead; and 2) at these moments, it is instructive to remember that Rocky, the fictional Philly underdog, lost his first title bout; sure he won the rematch, later avenged a loss to Clubber Lang (thus avenging the death of Mickey), and then avenged the brutal beating of Apollo Creed and ended the Cold War by beating the snot out of Ivan Drago, but this was just Stalone cashing in on the franchise (we won't mention the whole Tommy Morrison thing). It is our lot in life, as Philly fans, to suffer.

And suffer I did - in the end I decided not to bet the Pats for the emotional hedge - I needed to feel the unmitigated misery of the true fan. They played well - really there was only one unforgivable mistake - throwing 2 straight interceptions in the red zone on their first promising drive (the first was called back on a penalty). Was it obvious only to me that they should have kicked the field goal on first down?

Did anyone catch Michael Douglass in the pre-game, making the gaffe of saying that our troops in Afganistan and Iraq were actually defending our country? I'd hate to be him at the next meeting of the Actor's Guild - didn't he get the memo that the war was about providing profitable contracts to Halliburton?

The twins were pulling hard for the Eagles, and Jake, as the iconoclast of the group, initially pulled for the Pats. After that first big pass play to TO, me and the twins were hoppin around, and three-year old Jake pulls the fastest (and in retrospect a too hasty) hop on the bandwagon, saying "OK, I am rooting for the Eagles." And just like that he committed himself to a lifetime of disappointment. It could be worse - he could be a Lions fan, like Vegas Heavy-T.