The Birds, The Super Bowl, & The Sweet 16

Raising kids has a way of lowering the blinders that once covered your eyes from everything your own parents did for you. One day you’re a selfish prick, whining about how your parents fucked you up, and the next you realize the level of sacrifice your parents had to put in for you to be here. It takes much more than two minutes of fun to become a parent and not just a sperm donor. I could go on and on about what I’ve learned about my parents through raising kids of my own but, where would the fun in that be? I’m sure my parents would love an entire post dedicated to how good they were to me but unfortunately for them, this is not that kind of post. Because there is ONE problem with the blinders being lowered. Your eyes are not only open to all the good but also to the fact that your parents, like you, are actually morons. Although they are your parents they are people after all. They were young and dumb once, too. And, for a few reasons, this became clear to me on the Sunday of Super Bowl LIX.

First and foremost, your parents have baggage that you are forced to pick up. In my case that baggage was becoming a Philadelphia Eagle fan. Doesn’t sound too bad, right? Wrong. Growing up the Eagles sucked for a long time. It was tough being an Eagles fan living in Giant Country. Not only did you have to watch your team suck year in and year out, but you had to hear it from the surrounding Giants fans. Just take a look at the three most formative years of my football fandom.

Is this the 90’s Eagles or 2020’s Giants?

It was putrid being an Eagles fan for a long time and there is a reason Eagles fans have gotten a bad rap over the years. When your franchise was, until recently, one of the 13 teams that had never won a Super Bowl, you tend to get frustrated and if Santa Clause or opposing fans have to eat the brunt of that frustration then so be it. It didn’t help that during the 97’-99’ seasons was when I learned how to lose my mind about sports via my father. We would sit down to watch the game, he would lose his mind at another loss, my mother would try to calm him down, and I’d be stuck watching another blowout loss all alone. I do not wonder why I am a psychotic football fan. It’s been handed down to me. It’s baggage I will have to carry.

Live look at my father during the Eagles sucking ass.

The Eagles franchise has since turned it around. Since meeting my wife the Eagles have won two Super Bowls. I cherish her for how she cares for our kids, I’m lucky that she’s hot as shit, but I love her because she is good luck to my Birds. I feel less guilty that I am raising two Eagles fans now that we have a winning franchise. I am not sure how I would feel if I was brainwashing them to enjoy watching the same 97’-99’ teams. I am sure there is shit I am putting on my kids that they will have to deal with someday, but being an Eagles fan is not one of them.

Now the second mind blowing insight about my parents is in regards to their wedding. They’ve explained their two weddings to me before but now that I am a married man (and parent) myself, I am astonished at both of them. The first was an elopement in Margate after four months of dating. If my daughters told me they got eloped after four months of dating some little shit I would have to buy a gun, find the boy, and force an annulment so quick his head would spin. That shit aint’ happening on this Daddy’s watch. But the elopement is less crazy than their second wedding because…hold your breath…their second wedding was hosted on SUPER BOWL FUCKING SUNDAY.

That’s right, my parents were THOSE people. It’s unjustifiable. It’s insane. It’s pure selfishness to the nth degree. When they first told me this little nugget I didn’t think anything of it. Who cares if your wedding was on the same day as the Super Bowl? Keep in mind this was when I didn’t have to worry if the Eagles would be in it. Of course they wouldn’t. But now, after Superbowl LIX, I can’t look at my parents the same.

Why?

Well…I had an event I had to attend this year at 5:30 PM on Super Bowl Sunday.

I’d like to state here loud and clear, before I go in, that I love my family. I would do anything for them. I will sacrifice life and limb for anyone I am related to. This includes the family that I’ve adopted by getting married. Anything they need I will try and provide. But after the Eagles beat the Redskins Commanders to win the NFC Championship and I realized that my nieces Sweet 16 dinner was scheduled for 5:30 PM on Super Bowl Sunday, there was a moment of pure terror. What would I do? My beloved Birds were scheduled to play in the biggest game of the year at 6:30 PM and I would be where? At a Sweet 16? There’s just no way.

But I am no animal, dear reader. Sure, I love football but I love my niece more and wouldn’t have missed her Sweet 16 for the world (unless I wasn’t getting a candle, then I would’ve probably skipped it). To quell my growing concern my wife found out that we would be in a room with a bar that had multiple TV’s. This did not quell my concern. I thought of all the things that could go wrong. I wouldn’t be sitting in my seat or wearing my lucky sweats or paying close attention to every single second of the game that all clearly have an effect on the outcome of a game being played a thousand miles away from me that I am not playing in. In the end, I had no choice. You only turn 16 once.

I didn’t think things could get worse but of course, they did. I woke up around midnight the night before the big game with a 103 degree fever. I am told this is hospital level heat. I was having delirious dreams about playing safety in the Eagles Secondary and having my face on one of the Exciting Whites t-shirts that I currently have sitting in my cart, waiting to be purchased.

The three headed monster.

When I woke up in the morning I for sure thought that a 103 degree fever would leave me on the sidelines and at home watching the game all by myself. Not the worst outcome. I felt like the luckiest guy in the world even though my skin could burn someone to the touch. But my wife urged me to go to the doctors and somehow I was able to get meds, take a nap, and sweat the whole thing out before it was game time Sweet 16 time. 103 degree fever down to 98.7 in the time it takes you to watch the ridiculous pregame festivities (do we REALLY need a segment with Gordon Ramsey making a poboy?)

So not only was I recovering from a fluke illness, and not only was I headed to a Sweet 16, but I was also on antibiotics. Do you know what you’re not supposed to do on antibiotics? Drink. Now this, this was the hardest part of the entire day. I’m not always an alcoholic, but not being able to drink for the biggest sporting event starring my team was the hardest part of this whole affair. I was on edge. I couldn’t stop tapping my foot. My mind raced. I was going to have to raw dog the most consequential sporting event of the year. After the Yankees lost in the World Series and Notre Dame lost in the National Championship if the Eagles lost in the Super Bowl and I wasn’t allowed to drink my sorrows away I’m pretty sure I would’ve just called it as a sports fan.

Now for those of you who don’t know how the game turned out you can probably unsubscribe because…who the fuck doesn’t know how the Super Bowl turned out? But I will remind everyone that the Philadelphia Eagles DOMINATED the Chiefs for four quarters. Even though I walked into the dinner more nervous than my niece (who had to give 17 speeches) the game turned out exactly as I hoped. The Birds didn’t let me down because I didn’t let my niece down. And so I’ve made a promise to myself. It’s a weird promise, but a promise nonetheless. If the Philadelphia Eagles make it back to the Super Bowl I will be forced to find a Sweet 16 to crash. It will be weird, it will be creepy, but it will be necessary because that is my new good luck charm. I would like to thank my niece, wish her a happy birthday, and tell her to keep an eye out for anyone turning 16 next year when the Eagles decide to run it back.

Go Birds!

P.S. – Just kidding, that sounded very creepy. Gaba, your Uncle Alex does NOT want you to keep an eye out for Sweet 16’s.

P.P.S. – But if there happens to be a Sweet 16 on Super Bowl Sunday next year and the Eagles happen to be playing in the game…I’ll be your designated driver.

P.P.P.S. – A little novel update if interested – I am eyeing June or July as publication date and will be releasing sections here during the lead up. This book is a summer read and if you’re looking for a laugh, this will be the book for you! Stay tuned!