Sunday night, my Seattle Seahawks beat the evil henchmen of the 49ers and their dark overlord, Colin Kaepernick, to win the NFC Championship and secure a place in the Super Bowl.
I messaged back and forth during the game with my very positive and supportive sister, who lives in New York.
Let’s just say I don’t handle stress well, and my morals are flexible when it comes to football games.
The game starts. Our quarterback fumbles immediately and we lose possession.
One of our receivers makes a fantastic catch and then falls down in an ouchy way. Then we don’t score and lose possession again. (ps: “domesday” = “doomsday”)
My sister tries to cheer me up at the start of the second half. It doesn’t go well.
I start to spiral downward at a dizzying pace.
Last quarter of the game. We have a small lead that we could easily lose. I start to get dramatic. Oh, and there’s an “interceptoon.”
End of the game. I no longer care about sportsmanship or fairness. And then we win.
Happy Super Bowl, everybody!