It's Coming, It's Coming . . . The High Holy Day of the National Religion . . . The Super Bowl!

Well, that's what I call the Super Bowl. As one who has heard people gripe about going to church all my life, and saying: "I can't stand the way they do the same thing every Sunday when I go to that church", I have often laughed when I think about all the sports "traditions" connected with football (the coin toss ritual), baseball (the 7th inning stretch and "Take Me Out To the Ballgame" singing), and so on and so forth. I bet if the game programs looked like church bulletins/order of service, they would contain the same things every game just like church services do. Or so it seems to me.

In my family, I learned all about sports because I am married to a sports fan[atic] rather than just a fan. I learned all about the rules and what was OK and what wasn't more out of "self-defense" than because I was interested. Watching grown men grappling and sweating over a piece of sports equipment called a "ball" when it wasn't even round. Didn't seem very sensible to me. But what do I know?

This coming Sunday the Pittsburgh Steelers and the Green Bay Packers will "fight" it out for the championship and those beautiful Super Bowl rings. Didn't know how nice those rings were up close until one Sunday years ago when we were attending church at Hollywood Presbyterian Church and Terry Bradshaw, then the quarterback of the Pittsburgh Steelers, was sitting in the row ahead of us and had his arm on the back of the pew around his wife. I don't think my son heard a word of the sermon he was so mesmerized by that ring. I guess getting your body wracked up for the rest of your life might be OK if you get a $2,000 ring. I also get a bit upset that there are grown men getting paid millions to play a child's game and griping because they don't make enough.

And then we have the commercials . . . millions of dollars spent for just 30 seconds during the Super Bowl. I sometimes wonder how big a dent we could make in America's hunger problem--even for the children, if we spent all those millions on feeding kids. Just my "social justice" soul crying out, I guess. Don't get me wrong . . . I enjoy the good commercials as much as the next person. In fact, I really appreciate some of the creativity that goes into some of the good ones. But I still get nervous when I think of all that money . . .

This Sunday we'll probably go over to my son's house or he'll come to ours--we live about 20 minutes away from each other--and he'll bring the usual cooler full of sodas and beer, some veggies and dip, and probably some chips as well. I'll have to root around in

my cupboard and unearth the little slow cooker kind of appliance that looks like

a football field and put the nacho cheese dip in there or maybe this year I'll do the barbecue sauce with smokie links. I like to slow cook a beef brisket with potatoes in the oven for 12 hours--I put that in about 10:00 PM the night before--and the house really smells yummy. I put all the food out on the counter with the plates and stuff, then retreat to my books in the back of the house. I try to come out occasionally so that it looks like I care who's winning because it keeps peace and convinces my men that the "little woman" knows what's really important in the world.

But I have to own up to the fact that I am a Chicago Bear fan, and am disappointed that the Packers, of all people, beat my Bears. As the two oldest NFL franchises, no Bear fan ever--and I do mean ever--wants to lose to Green Bay. It just isn't right. I don't mind Pittsb

urgh, though. They are nearly as old as the Bears and Packers--one of

the older franchises in the NFL along with the San Francisco 49er's and the Cleveland Browns. And as a Bear

fan, I just can't bring myself to root for Green Bay. There just isn't that much charity in my soul. It will be especially hard if Green Bay goes ahead in the score--then I really won't watch because it just get's too upsetting. My son and husband both switch to other channels in the hope that when they switch back to the game the score will reflect the fact that their favorite has gone ahead. Some kind of psychic thing, I guess . . . "I know they'll lose if I keep watching." My husband always does this when his LA Dodgers are losing.

In the next few days, I hope to be reviewing some of the books I have read that involve football. Hope you all will continue to drop by. Why not share some of your Super Bowl Sunday activities or thoughts. Until next time . . .