The day may come when reckoning time according to the birth of Christ will give way to numbering our years according to the Roman numerals of the Superbowl. That’s basically what the ancient Greeks did when they counted their years according to what Olympiad it was. Anyway, we need to recognize our de facto national holiday, which happens on Sunday: The Superbowl. It has acquired its own rituals: assembling not with family but with friends; feasting on finger foods; watching commercials. Maybe it’s time to ask of this festival day what we ask of other holidays: What is the true meaning of Superbowl? We can also, of course, discuss the game.
The Packers being out of it, I have no dog in this fight. I’ll be for the Ravens, simply because they are closer to where I live. Plus, they are named after an Edgar Alan Poe poem, so that is in their favor. Also, they are not from San Francisco, which has accumulated too much sports glory lately.
What are your predictions? Let’s see who can call the score.
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