This is always a blah day, the day after the Super Bowl. I didn’t even watch much of the game, turning it on in a daze in the middle of the night a few times, taking my shift sleeping in front of the TV on a mattress with my newborn son anyway, making sure we don’t wake up his big sister in the family bedroom (we co-sleep).
I should have watched of course. In those middle of the night moments, it seemed like a grind, a boring Pittsburgh win, but I missed a great ending, seemingly one to stay up for, even in the haze of newborn sleep deprivation.
But, regardless, now there is no football until September. This was a real letdown when I was a kid, facing two months before baseball, not that into hockey or basketball.
Now, I don’t even watch much football, certainly not in Sweden. And my team, the Buffalo Bills, are pathetic.
So I shouldn’t reallly care. But I do. Even if I am only missing a scan of the sports headlines, instead of a week of pouring over Sports Illustrated and the Sporting Green of the San Francisco Chronicle.
I gotta start counting down to baseball!