Category Archives: Super Bowl

Fat Tuesday

It’s been too long since I’ve been down in the Big Easy.

I think the recent Super Bowl win by the Saints has amped up my desire to make a return to NOLA.

I’m missing New Orleans. Days like today, Fat Tuesday, make me crave it even more … the food, the music, the beads, the beverages.

Speaking of beverages, I’m not Catholic, but I am giving up something for Lent this year. I’m swearing off sodas. Bye Bye Mountain Dew. See ya later Dr. Pepper. It’s been sweet, but I’m going to eliminate you.

I did this a few years ago and erased Diet Coke from my list of liquids of which I partake. As a matter of fact, it’s now been four years since I swilled a Diet Coke.

Hurricane Katrina has paid a horrible visit to New Orleans since I have. She ravaged it. I hope to make a much more gentle landing in the Crescent City.

I’d love to¬† feel the heavy air and smell the amazing aromas that waft out of doors and windows of restaurants of both the five-star and the tiny five-table variety.

The music pulses through the humidity moving your feet along the cobblestones and sidewalks, pulling you toward the rhythm. Brass boldly squawking at you. The felt-covered hammers inside the piano striking and making the strings vibrate to match the pumping of the blood through your veins. An accordion wheezing and breathing, yelling more than whispering, urging you to come inside. The city and its music speaks to you.

To put you even more in the spirit of New Orleans, Newscoma called upon Buckwheat Zydeco this morning.

I present to you Dr. John performing “Iko Iko.”

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Super Bowl Sunday

It’s Super Bowl Sunday.

Hip hip hurray! It’s a holiday in the Squirrel Queen household.

A day for the best finger foods and snacks of all time. A day for football. A day for creative advertising. A day for comradery. A day for beer!

Unlike many seasons, I’m not rooting against a team, but I will be pulling for one this year.

Peyton and the Colts already have one Super Bowl ring and a Lombardi trophy. Let Drew Brees and the rest of New Orleans celebrate tonight. It would be great to be down on Bourbon Street this evening.

Like the song says, “this aint your daddy’s Saints.”

No matter which team wins today, I’ll be OK with it.

Bruce Springsteen’s Super Crotch

Sure, it was a memorable Super Bowl, that No. 43.

Santonio Holmes’ toes and Big Ben’s arm turned Arizona ecstacy into Cardinal crying in the final seconds.

I think it was all karmic payback to Kurt Warner. Remember 10 years ago, his Rams made a defensive stop on the gut-wrenching last play of the game to keep the Titans from winning it all. Take that Kurt!

But for me, likely the most memorable moment has to be getting up close and personal with the Boss’ crotch. Bruce Sprintsteen’s rock star knee slide gone out of control is probably giving one camera man nightmares for the next 10 years.

Also, was he wearing a cup? Because he never flinched. Bruce’s balls of steel.

Oh yeah, I forgot. The show must go on.

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Super Bowl Commercials 2009

Edited to add: Here are all the Super Bowl 2009 commercials.

We all know frequently the best part of the Super Bowl is the commercials (except for last year’s game = great catch > Patriots undefeated one-loss season).

For those of you who can’t wait until kickoff, here’s a sampling of some of the ads that will be aired during the big game.

The Career Builder 2009 Super Bowl ad is one of my favorites that has been released early.

Baltimore Raven Ray Lewis doing ballet is also a bit out there in the Sobe Super Bowl 2009 ad.

Pedigree’s Super Bowl 2009 ad pushing their pet adoption program is also entertaining. Of course, in the spirit of clarity, I am a dog person.

Audi’s 2009 Super Bowl commercial has action star Jason Statham (one of Newscoma‘s favorites).

Of course I still love the commercial from the 2008 Super Bowl with the screaming squirrel.

Titans Still Undefeated At 9-0

It wasn’t easy but the Tennessee Titans improved to 9-0 in the 2008 season with a 21-14 win over the host Chicago Bears.

The Freak, Jevon Kearse, (who has the biggest hands I’ve ever had the chance to shake) showed off his team’s record by placing a piece of tape between the 9 and the 0 on his #90 Titans jersey on the sideline in the game’s waning moments.

The running game of LenDale White and Chris Johnson had a rough day against Da Bears defense, but the Titans’ offensive line gave Kerry Collins time to throw and the Tennessee defense made big plays when it needed to in order to win. Cortland Finnegan is a beast in the secondary.

We’ll see how long these Titans can keep it up. Hopefully for a good long while, but I would trade a loss now for a Super Bowl win later.

Image via ESPN

nablopomo-november-2008

Brett Favre retires

If you spot a Green Bay Packers fan in tears today, they have an excellent reason. Packers quarterback Brett Favre has announced his retirement.

The Super Bowl winner, three-time MVP and future Hall of Famer has locked up plenty of records during his career on the frozen tundra of Lambeau Field in frigid Wisconsin including most wins, passing yards, touchdowns and consecutive games started as a QB.

He nearly called it quits after the 2006 season but came back for one more and thrilled the Green and Gold faithful with one of his finest seasons. For his efforts he was named Sports Illustrated’s 2007 Sportsman of the Year. Not too shabby.

I think what bonded Favre with his fans was the personal tragedies he went through while maintaining his on-the-field success. Battles with substance addiction, deaths to close family members, his wife’s cancer – these were all issues that the average Cheesehead in Row ZZ, seat 13 has had to deal with. And the fans had to go through these tribulations without ESPN and Fox nor linebackers breathing down their necks.

I still don’t like the way he flopped to give Strahan the single season sack record a few seasons ago, but you can’t deny the unabashed joy Favre brings to the field. It was like watching a little boy fling footballs, slap teammates on the butt, trashtalk the opponent and rack up wins all the same time.

The NFL will miss Brett Favre, in body and in spirit.

Will you please rise …

I attend sporting events on a very regular basis.

Nearly all of them begin with some version of our national anthem. Last week, I had a Star Spangled Banner first.

Hearing something new caught my attention.

Most of the football games kick off after a marching band blasts the stadium with a straightforward rendition.

Since the 1991 Super Bowl, I’ve heard Whitney Houston’s version about a million times. She’s very popular on the high school basketball circuit.

Talented teens from the home team’s school sometimes provide live vocal renditions. Usually they try to personalize with extra trilling ala Mariah Carey or the latest boy band hiccups that are distracting and can make the song seem to last forever.

I’ve heard a high school kid do a very close approximation of Hendrix with his electric guitar. (Kudos to the school principal for allowing that one.) At the same school, a young woman played the tune on a violin/fiddle.

Another school in our area wheels a piano onto the gym floor about once a basketball season and we are serenaded by the tickling of the ivories.

As far as brass instruments, the trumpet and saxophone have been utilized occasionally.

But last week, my ears perked up at a different sound.

The gym was packed for the playoffs and I was standing at the end near the bleachers preparing my camera when the announcement was made to rise for the playing of our national anthem. The usual background noise of the shuffle of feet and rustling of clothes created as all citizens on hand rose to honor their nation was filtered by my brain. The actual star spangled banner was attached to the wall at the opposite end of the arena, so nearly everyone in the building had their back turned to me. The bench players from the opposing team were strung out across the court waiting to high five their starting five when they were introduced after the song was over.

Then the music began. I couldn’t see the performer for all the athletes, managers, coaches and officials in between me and the scorers’ table. The notes were obviously familiar, but the way they were conveyed to me was out of the norm.

A clarinetist had everyone’s ear and performed admirably.

Benny Goodman would have been proud.