By Eric George Tauber
SAN DIEGO — Super Bowl Sunday has been called “the Secular American Holiday.” It’s a day when so many people gather together to watch the same program that municipalities prepare for multitudes of simultaneously flushing toilets. And not watching the Super Bowl is considered “un-American,” practically treasonous, tantamount to joining the Taliban or using the metric system.
I remember attending a Super Bowl party back in high school. I thought I might actually get some enjoyment out of it if I knew what was going on. So I asked someone, “Who’s playing? Which team is which?”
He was taken aback. “You’re kidding, right? You really don’t know?!”
Not wishing to appear ignorant, I played it off as a gag. “Ha! Gotcha! I had you going there, didn’t I?”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, I should say….”
Even my eight-year-old nephew, Dylan is on this bandwagon. Last year, we spent the day as a family and he asked, “So who do you go for?”
As politely as I could, I explained that I had no skin in the game, so its outcome wouldn’t affect me one way or the other.
“Yeah, but who do you go for?” He asked this question several times despite my repeated expressions of ambivalence. I simply had to “go for” one team or the other.
“Boychick! Uncle Eric doesn’t care. They can both go to Hell.” He let the matter drop, but it was a cause of some consternation.
Super Bowl Sunday is to non-fans what December 25th is to Jews. We know that Santa’s not gracing our houses, but we still have the day off. So we go to the movies followed by Chinese food. The day of the “Big Game” is a great day to do something else. Go to the Zoo. Shop at the mall. Take a harbor cruise or attend a matinée at the theatre. It’s far less crowded and the lines are much shorter. But more than that, there’s an unspoken sense of fellowship among the non-fans. We’re the nerds, the oddballs, the “un-American” minority finding new strength in our numbers.
When the Chargers walked out of San Diego like a philandering husband shacking up with his floozy girlfriend, we weren’t devastated. We didn’t sob into our beers. We just shrugged and life went on.
So that’s why I look forward to the day of the “Big Game,” but not to watch the game. Just as Chinese restaurants are full of Jews on Christmas, the Old Globe played host to a house filled with erudite oddballs sharing a moment of fellowship. It was like that moment in shul when we put our arms around one another, swaying and singing Hinei Ma Tov.
“Behold how good and pleasant it is for brothers and sisters to dwell together in unity.”
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Tauber is a freelance writer specializing in coverage of the arts. He may be contacted via eric.tauber@sdjewishworld.com
Then there are people like me. I can watch it and enjoy the fan fare but I might get distracted by some other activity as well. My mother is a big fan so we invited her over. It was fun having her and watching the hoopla, but if she hadn’t been here, it wouldn’t have been on. I can take it or leave it. I like the flexibility of being comfortable in both groups. Thanks for the interesting piece Eric!