Bowled Over
/Joe Rice had been into American Football since he was a kid. The Super Bowl was the highlight of the year. In the run up to Christmas, while the rest of the UK was gearing up for the festivities, Joe and his friends were more excited for the play-offs and the Super Bowl. The sport of American football did have something of a cult following in the UK, and any fan worth their salt would have booked the day after Super Bowl Sunday off work, as they would be up all night enjoying the biggest game of the year.
In the past, Joe had joined his friends in a sports bar in Manchester city centre, or, more recently, one of his group would hold a party. Joe wasn’t sure he’d be attending the party this year. He couldn’t help feeling they were getting a bit old for all that. It took him most of the week to recover from the all-nighter each year. The beer and the lack of sleep took its toll. They were all in their thirties now and most, like Joe, were married. Maybe it was time to grow up a little.
They were all in an American themed bar in the Trafford Centre the week before the big game, all talk was about the play-off matches and the upcoming final. Kansas City against Philadelphia. This game was going to be big. There were so many talking points about the game. It was going to be fantastic. Joe returned from the bar, with a fresh round of bottled beers, and as he handed them around, he decided to tell the group that he wouldn’t be joining them for the big bash this year.
‘Listen, about Sunday, I think I’m gonna leave it this year.’ He said.
There were gasps and Peter almost dropped his bottle in shock. They usually had an American themed party night. There would be beer, burgers, and hot dogs. Why would Joe even consider missing it?
‘I’m not saying I’m not going to watch the game, I just can’t face staying up all night.’
‘How’s that going to work then?’ asked Luke.
The group looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. This wasn’t any game, this wasn’t the opening weekend, this wasn’t the play-offs, this was the Super Bowl. And Joe was actually suggesting he wasn’t going to watch it. Joe shook his head, he had a plan.
‘I am going to record the game, then watch it on Monday morning, and go in to work late. That way, the fatigue and hangover, doesn’t ruin the whole week. Honestly, I’m like a zombie the week after the Super Bowl.’
‘But, you’ll know the result.’ Peter argued, pointing the neck of his beer bottle at him.
‘No, I will make sure I don’t know who won. I’ll keep off social media and get straight on the game.’
‘You’d better keep off your mobile phone, then. Our group chat will be full of talk of the game.’
‘I won’t even look at my phone, until I’ve watched the game. I’ll get all caught-up on the match and then we can talk about it. Except, I will be fresh having had a full night’s sleep. I get to watch the game, as though it’s live, and not lose a Sunday night sleep over it.’ Joe said.
‘The only thing that could ruin that plan, is if you find out the score.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.’ Joe said.
The morning after the Super Bowl, Joe woke at the alarm. While his wife, Lisa, headed for the bathroom to get showered for work, Joe reached for his mobile phone. He was about to check his messages, as he always did, then have a quick scroll through social media, when he stopped himself. No. He had to avoid the result. Social media would no doubt be full of debate and discussions about the game, and his friends would be talking about the big match on their group chat. No, he remembered, he couldn’t touch his phone until after the game.
He threw his dressing gown on and headed downstairs. He flicked the kettle on to make the tea and went through to the living room. He switched the television set on. The breakfast news came on screen, the reporter smiling. In sports news, it was the biggest night of the year in the NFL. Joe swore, quickly flicking the channel over, before finding the recording of the game in the TV planner. That was close.
His wife came through, and as he was busy getting the match playing on TV, she made the tea. She came through and handed him a mug of tea. He thanked her. She sipped her tea and read the morning newspapers on the sofa beside him.
Joe hit play on the remote and the match was getting underway, the commentators, getting extremely excited, this is it, welcome to Super Bowl Fifty Seven, the Philadelphia Eagles against the Kansas City Chiefs. This one is set to be a great match. Joe shared their excitement. It was so good to be watching the game during the day, and not in the middle of the night. He loved the NFL, loved the sport of what here in the UK, they called American football, but the time difference meant that a lot of the games took place in the middle of the night. That was the only thing. But, maybe he’d cracked it. Maybe the best way around it was to avoid the result and watch it the morning after.
This was so cool. He felt fresh and full rested, and was watching the big game. It felt as though he was actually watching it live. Okay, he couldn’t have a beer while watching it, but that was worth sacrificing. Maybe next year he would plan a special breakfast to have while watching the Super Bowl. He could even have an American themed breakfast. What did they eat for breakfast in America? It was crispy bacon, wasn’t it? Pancakes and maple syrup? He could research the perfect American breakfast menu in advance and have it properly organised, and have coffee instead of the usual tea. As the Chiefs got enough yards to secure another 1st and 10, and Patrick Mahomes played his heart out, his wife chuckled.
‘You and that game, you’re obsessed.’ She laughed, looking up from the newspaper.
‘It’s the Super Bowl, love. It’s the biggest game of the year.’ He said.
He glanced around at her, grinning. She always did pull his leg about his fascination with the American sport. His heart sank, the smile fading from his face. On the back page of the newspaper was the sports headline and the jubilant Kansas City players holding the trophy in celebration. Chiefs win Super Bowl 38-35!
By Chris Platt
From: United Kingdom