For those of you who may live as a recluse or have your head stuck in the sand, I'll graciously turn my head to your ignorance and inform you that the Steelers are in the superbowl this year. You see, this is a pretty big deal around our house. Just about everyday of late one of the "men" in my life has worn some sort of Steeler paraphanalia. It doesn't seem to matter that we live hundreds of miles away from Pittsburgh, or that we don't get any sports radio, or that most people around here really don't care all that much which team wins this year. We faithfully cheer on the "home" team--which my husband stoutly declares they will always and forever be as far as he's concerned.
This year we'll be watching the game at the Hull's house with the college students that are becoming more and more dear to our hearts. And, aside from a couple stubborn Seattle fans, the majority of them will probably cross their fingers, in part, for The Bus and Big Ben and, mostly, for my husband.
[By the way: I hope to see those of you who fit in the Campus Ministry category there. It's bound to be fun, and I think I'll actually make this gathering instead of staying home to put toddlers to bed and like the idea of visiting with you!]
In years past, the superbowl used to simply be an excuse to hang out with people, eat pizza and drink soda, and "veg", but since marriage, the superbowl has come to represent a great deal more, I've found. This game is the hope and goal all fall and throughout the holiday season. This game separates the men from the boys. This game determines the validity of your hometown. This game represents every boyhood dream of fame and talent.
I don't think I'll be wearing anything declaring my loyalty to the Steelers, since such apparel has to be borrowed from my husband and only looks half-way normal when I'm 9 months pregnant, but I'll be holding my breath with the best of them. Though whether I do this because I really want the Steelers to win or simply because I want my husband to be happy is up to debate.
I know just what you mean. Upon entering the Tomford clan 17 years ago I became an official New York Knicks fan. I also hold my breath when they are playing in a big game...for the same reasons
ReplyDeleteJude
i've talked to several people about different superbowl parties and they've all commented, "i just want to go to the hull's -- you know, be able to watch the game with daniel. that should be exciting."
ReplyDeleteThe idea of you cheering on to a football game simply makes me giggle. I'm glad you all enjoy it so much. i'm on your side. Go pittsburgh.
ReplyDeleteSunday is a VERY serious day around here (in Pittsburgh). The news stations; sadly to say, for the past two weeks have talked about NOTHING else! Also, there is HUGE rally downtown Thursday morning and they are asking people to take off work...if possibly. This city is SLIGHTLY OBSESSED...but it's fun. I hope that you guys have a wonderful time at your party....things down here will be tense :)
ReplyDeleteThe Superbowl is what sport? Jk.
ReplyDeleteI'll see you Thursday! Any allergies?
Go Steelers!
ReplyDeleteI too am rooting for the steelers. We will be going to the Story's even though the college students are truly where ours hearts are, we decided to be with our group. I hope the Steelers win.
ReplyDeleteis so obsessd down here,
ReplyDeleteyou'd honestly think the war was over or somethng, its complete chaos....
I have to agree with Debbie, It
ReplyDeleteWhoa, don't know how that got to be two comments....
ReplyDelete--Go Stillers--
go steelers!
ReplyDeleteIf I didn't have my own family traditions to attend to, I would def' be there...
ReplyDeleteI'm an ignorant recluse with my head in the sand, because last week I actually had to ask someone what sport the Redskins played. And I'd probably have to ask the same thing for the Steelers if I couldn't put two and two together knowing that the Superbowl is for football. Oh well. I remember the last superbowl party I went to. I had the GREATEST FUN! And I was just as clueless. I rooted for "the team with the gold pants because I like their gold pants!" Just goes to show how much I know. I just know it was the year when the dude fell down but got his arm over the goal line and won at the last minute. We all walked down a few houses at 12 at night, rang our pastor's doorbell, and then laid out on his porch with our arms over the threshhold of his door. He was rooting for the losing team.
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