There used to be a time when I could barely contain my excitement prior to the Super Bowl.
This Super Bowl has no redeeming value. No teams worth cheering and no players worth supporting.
One team is led by a man who is strongly linked to the death of another human being. This is a man that has never turned down a microphone (unless it has to do with talking about his previous faults). This same man has spent the past 13 years preaching about the saving powers of Jesus...because, you know, when Jesus speaks, it's usually through a millionaire linebacker that was accused of murder.
The team itself, the Baltimore Ravens, are the product of one of football's most soul-less individuals; the now deceased Art Modell. This is a man who took one of football's most storied franchises, held it hostage when he wouldn't spend one flipping dime on a new stadium, and then moved them to Baltimore with no apologies.
These same Ravens are honoring Modell's legacy by wearing a patch in his honor. Yay.
The other team?
The team's fan base (at least outside of Northern California) is filled with front runners that hopped on the championship bandwagon in the 1980s. These aren't the most insufferable fans in the NFL, but they're pretty flipping close. You think five championships would loosen up this bunch, but Jesus...
This week, Chris Culliver, one of the 49ers' cornerbacks, made a comment stating that he would never welcome an openly gay player into the locker room.
The head coach, Jim Harbaugh (a former NFL player himself), shrugged off questions about recent statistics regarding head injuries and how those studies might be effecting plummeting youth football numbers. You know, because anybody who chooses not to play is a nancy!
Their aging wide receiver, Randy Moss, considers himself the greatest wide receiver of all-time. He does this in the face of his own fans who know he isn't even the second best on his current franchise.
Their fans shouldn't get upset. Ego is something rampant amongst the 49ers; it lurks from the front office, seeps to the head coach, drips onto the players on the field, and is spewed out by their annoying fanbase.
Both organizations make me yearn for the excitement I had awaiting the Super Bowl as a child.
Guess I'll just have to hope that the Bud Bowl is solid.