They call it the Super Bowl, not the Salad Bowl

Have an inspirational story about your dad? Tell us
12:26 p.m.
How to stay safe outdoors this Memorial weekend
5/23/12
Students make most of school’s Lenten service project
5/23/12
How to make a customized dry-erase board
5/23/12
Woman helps tornado victims with lost photos
5/23/12
> More lifestyle headlines

By D.L. Stewart, Contributing Writer 1:03 PM Saturday, February 11, 2012

Gisele Bundchen isn’t the only wife who obviously doesn’t understand the rules for watching football games.

After seeing her quarterback husband, Tom Brady, and the New England Patriots lose in the Super Bowl last Sunday, the supermodel publicly and profanely criticized his teammates.

Her rant generated a blitz of heated reactions. “Super Brat,” raged a headline in a Boston tabloid. “Supermodel drops the ball,” a network report began. “Shut up and stay cute,” a New York Giants running back scoffed.

Her outburst was, many football followers declared, a violation of unwritten spousal etiquette that could lead to future dissension in the Patriots’ locker room.

At our house, fortunately, the only Super Bowl dissension was in the kitchen.

A few days before the game my wife and I decided to invite some friends to stop over and help us pass time between commercials. (The statistic about 111 million Americans watching the game is a myth; 110 million of us spent most of the game eating, talking or trying to figure out how many points the millionaires on the field needed to score for us to win the $2 pool).

“What should we serve?” my wife asks.

“You know, the standard stuff,” I reply. “Chips, guac, cheese goo and chicken wings.”

“OK. And what should we serve for dinner?”

“I just told you: chips, guac, cheese goo and chicken wings.”

“That’s not a meal.”

“Of course it’s not a meal. It’s supposed to be a Super Bowl party, not a White House dinner. Super Bowl Sundays are about noshing on stuff that will clog your arteries, drinking beer and protecting the children from seeing wardrobe malfunctions.”

“At least we’ll need a salad,” she insists.

“There’s no salads in Super Bowls,” I declare. “They’ve played that game for XLV years and nobody has ever eaten a single bite of endive while watching it.”

“What about the people who want to eat healthy?”

“We’ll order extra celery sticks with the chicken wings.”

“Maybe we could have a nice fruit bowl.”

“No fruit.”

“Well, we can’t invite people over and not have something sweet. How about a dessert? I could bake a cake in the shape of a football.”

“I don’t care if you bake a cake in the shape of (Patriots coach) Bill Belichick. Nobody’s going to eat it.”

Despite the dissension, our Super Bowl party turns out to be a success. Although, as usual, nobody watches much of the game.

They’re all too busy eating salad.

Contact D.L. Stewart at  dlstew_2000@yahoo.com.

Share this article