our grapes are not sour

I admit it. I've never really liked football all that much. It wasn't until Ted came into my life that I learned to have a greater appreciation of the sport, and then when our friends, Sam and Donna, came into our lives that I started watching it with any frequency. Even then, when we gathered for NFL Sunday Ticket (the only way East coast Seahawks fans can watch their games), I did more socializing than analyzing. Still, through mere osmosis (in combination with my husband's gentle-yet-insistent teachings), the important bits sank in.

That said, the SuperBowl was frustrating. It may be trite that the losing team's fans complain about the referees, but in this case, the officiating was genuinely bad. The Seahawks have said that they know what their mistakes were, and that they could have played better. They've been good sports about it, but they would be remiss not to acknowledge the influence of officiating. What makes us all feel better (how presumptuous of me to speak on behalf of the Seahawks and the horde of people who are collectively the 12th Man) is that we of the blue and green are not the only ones crying foul. The commentators during the game even mentioned it. And the post-game press has covered it thoroughly.

The Seahawks were robbed of a fair chance to win the SuperBowl.

So we move on. I, for one, think their season was great, and first trip to the SuperBowl well-deserved. But for now, we enjoy life for a while (and maybe some curling), and come fall, we'll be in prep mode for Miami.