I tried to watch the Super Bowl. Well, I did watch the Super Bowl – kind of.

Announcers for such events – the World Series, the NCAA Final Four – they are told to talk in more generalities, to explain more, to understand that a lot of the audience members aren’t really sports fans, they just come along for the event. As Henny Youngman might have said, “Take my wife, please.”

She is not a football fan. In fact she, for the past decade, has taken a strong and constant position when it comes to pigskin games. Whenever one happens up on the television – and Lord knows how it just happens to rise up on the screen every once in a while – she will, I repeat, absolutely will, announce to anyone listening, and usually that audience is not large, “stupid football.”

Well, Sunday the 11th commandment, one I firmly believe in, was violated when we left the TV on while eating supper. The Super Bowl just happened to be on, the second quarter to be exact. I didn’t offer to shut it off, but I didn’t ask to leave it on, either. You know how you just kind of sneak a peek out of the corner of your eye to see if there’s going to be any reaction.

Wife, as Green Bay goes ahead again, “The Patriots are an embarrassment to New England. They ought to just move.”

Husband, “Would you please pass the pepper?”

Wife, as the clock is under a minute for the first half, “Will they put the ball in the place they stop when they come back after putting their little feet up and resting?”

Husband, “No. Will you pass the onions, please?”

Wife, as the clock runs down with the Pats running the ball, “Why don’t they just go in now? They’re not going to score anyway.”

Husband, “Why don’t you just call them and tell them to stop wasting time.” I kind of whispered that, actually.

Wife, as the first half expires and the Fox Network set rises beyond the end zone as the announcers go through the lineup for the halftime show, “Now, why are these guys talking? We don’t want to see any more of this stuff, and we don’t want to hear these guys clap-trapping. We want to see the halftime show.”

Wife, as Fox breaks in at the beginning of the halftime show with a fake news bulletin, “Now that’s pretty stupid. I thought the president had been shot or something.” I even came in from doing the dishes in the kitchen to see what the bulletin was. Stupid football.

Wife, as second half starts, “Well, as exciting as this is, I’ve got to finish the laundry. Call me when its time to have the peanut butter fudge ice cream.”

Husband, finishing the dishes, “Yes, dear.”

Like I said, I think I watched the Super Bowl, but I’m not really sure. There were these disruptions and questions and I kept wondering why Pat Summerall and John Madden weren’t answering her questions. They were supposed to know that some of the people watching weren’t really football fans. Why leave all this to me?

Anyway, the Pats lost, “embarrassing all of New England,” the peanut butter fudge stuff was good, and the elderly Green Bay fan who was in the NFL promo because he “felt the power” was the best thing all day. Stupid football.