Superbowl Sunday

Superbowl Sunday was eventful for me, and though there were some low moments, it ended up being pretty good. I got up early to bundle up and head to Central Park for my first race of 2013, the four-mile NYRR Gridiron Classic. The event was preceded by a throwing contest to determine who could chuck a pigskin the farthest. I was pretty sure I stood no chance and so showed up just a few minutes before the gun went off. The ever-present CNN temperature display just south of the park informed me that it was 23 degrees when we started the slog, and I opted to jog it under the circumstances. Most of me warmed up pretty quickly, but it wasn't until the third mile or so that my hands finally stopped aching. It had warmed up to 25 degrees by the time I finished. I decided to run home after the race, and I had the salty, slushy, wet running path just about to myself. Go figure.

Pre-game crowd, destined to get much denser

After a very long, very hot shower, I relaxed for a bit before heading to a bar with Ed to watch the Superbowl with a group of his friends. Many of Ed's friends happen to be Ravens fans and this was a dedicated Ravens bar, so you can imagine that excitement was high. I was not keen to go--pounding music and thick crowds are not my idea of a good time under the best of circumstances--and things proved to be even worse than I'd feared. We arrived just after 4:00 for a kick-off that wasn't scheduled to take place for about two hours. Our party had reserved a table in an elevated section of the bar, so I figured we'd at least be able to sit down and have breathing room. No such luck. The amount of space that I'd anticipated was for our group alone was split between three groups of our size. The place filled with customers, most of whom were young, drunk, decked out in Ravens gear, and screaming over music that was so loud it hurt. I attempted to yell to people for a while, but gave up after my throat grew sore and it was clear that my yelling wasn't really overpowering the music anyway. I drank one cheap beer and stood around miserably waiting for the game to start and planning a route to the nearest exit in case of fire. I'd go home after half-time, I decided. But the crowd was so huge, loud, and obnoxious by the time the ball was kicked off that I didn't even make it through the first quarter.

With about five minutes to go, I bailed. I called my friend Jeremy, an ardent sports hater, and met him at a quiet, dimly lit martini bar in Midtown. The game was on, but the set was tiny and set on mute. The place was nearly empty and blissfully peaceful. We complained about sports fans and loud bars and went our separate ways early. It was a good end to what had been a dismal night.

I'm hardly a football fan, but I do enjoy watching it now and then under the right conditions. Next year I plan to sit at home with a six-pack of microbrew and some high-quality snacks to watch the game in peace.