by Martha Groppo

Many guys and girls anticipate the Super Bowl with fierce smack talk.

I am not one of those people.

I’m rooting for the Packers—but that’s mainly because most of my friends will throw themselves into the nearest snow bank bawling if the Packers lose. I’m not one of those people who just watches the Super Bowl for the commercials, either. I legitimately like watching the game. I’m just sometimes perplexed by the testosterone fest known as American football.

Girls don’t get to play football. Do you know how frustrating that is? When do girls get to hit something? I’m not talking about flag football here. Running around in hula skirts has never released much aggression. Tag football? Oh, you get to run up to the person at full speed, but then you have to tap him. If girls do get a football league, it’s called “Powderpuff football.” Are you kidding me?

Of course, the Steelers and Packers have names only a little more frightening than the makeup applicator. Nothing says, “I’m going to beat you,” more than a team named after meat industry. The “Butchers” would be scary, but the Packers? Not so much.

There are plenty of other perplexing things about football. I’ve heard men mock a woman’s weakness for bling. Um…have you ever seen a Super Bowl ring? The Steelers’ last Super Bowl ring had a mere 63 diamonds totaling 3.61 carets. Subtle.

Does it confuse anyone else that players in a sport heralded as the epitome of “manly” have uniforms that look suspiciously like tights, shoulder pads and the kind of brightly colored mouth pieces they gave you to make braces fun?

The acceptability of spanking on the field is equally odd. That just wouldn’t be a suitable way of saying “good job” in front of Whitehall after that economics test.

Despite some of the oddness surrounding the Super Bowl, I look forward to the big day. There will be a good game, a ridiculous amount of delicious food and commercials that the poor people in advertising have been working on since last year.

Of course, another reason to anticipate the Super Bowl is that it heralds the end of football season. A football night at Buffalo Wild Wings is great, but the Sunday afternoon marathon gets old by January. The downside of having your desk next to the sports desk is the constant hum of just-loud-enough-to-be-impossible-to-ignore-but-equally-impossible-to-understand football noise (because guys “hate” listening to commentators but seem unwilling to use the mute button).

It’s time to give the players some time to recover from concussions, get their teeth replaced and pack on even more weight.

Come on, people. It’s basketball time.

by Andy Burress

The day is upon us, my friends. It’s what we’ve all been waiting for. All those DIY projects prepping the mancave with a fridge and chair. All those days at work when death was upon you because you need your sick days now to recover later. Even that time spent tailing the Mrs., so her apartment would match and be all pretty-like. Yes, my friends, this is the day. Now, are you ready for some football?

Bro tensions will run high, food will take flight and you better believe anything shaped at all like a ball will be thrown across the room. If you have emergency cash hidden somewhere, you’d best forget about it quickly. Each year the Super Bowl has four constants that remain: a healthy combination of pizza, hot wings, gambling and your favorite brand of calorie-counting that won’t be counting tonight. Tonight, money does, in fact, grow on trees.

Anyway, back to our living rooms. Guys, this is your one day to act however you want to and know that you won’t be judged.

Ladies, this is your day to show your man how much you care. That’s right. You support us. You pretend to care about football, and you just look so darn cute wearing our team’s colors.

But, just in case you’re watching the game because you want to, then you should tell people—guys especially. If you can sit there and watch nearly four hours of a bunch of roughnecks trying to kill each other, you’re a keeper.

We haven’t even reached halftime yet. There’s never a better combination of beer and sex in all of TV, and that’s just in the commercials. If you’re not into that, it doesn’t matter. You’re guaranteed to laugh the whole way through anyway.