Sometimes, I think God just likes messing with me.
All month, I’ve looked forward to watching the Super Bowl with my family on Facebook. Since we’re dispersed between Arkansas, Texas, Oklahoma, New Mexico, and Georgia, it’s not like I can actually be with them… but social networking is the next best thing to being there, right? And since this year I have internet and electricity at my house, and a laptop with audio, it seemed like the perfect storm.
Whoo hooo! Go Packers!
Let me say, I was born and raised in Texas, and everyone knows all babies born in Texas are embedded with a chip before they leave the hospital that programs them to be a Cowboys fan. What else could explain why every fall we race like lemmings toward the cliff, only to be plunged to an icy death on the shores of the playoffs? So, I’m not a Packers fan. But, I am also not a Steelers fan. And when forced to choose between two evils, I did the only logical thing: I googled the QBs to see who was cutest.
Rodgers won. Even with his helmet on.
The preparation began the day before, much the same as everyone else across the nation, except being on a diet put a bit of a cramp in my culinary style. I purchased the special diet snack fixings. Made sure everything was prepared ahead of time and within easy reach. Set up two laptops. One for backup in case something terrible happened and I lost power. At least I’d have battery.
Downloaded the software and purchased the game package online.
The giddiness of pregame taunting a la social network is not as much fun as ribbing one another in person, but I’ve gotten used to making the best of things.
Then – the moment we’d all been waiting for – the announcer called out those thrilling words: “Benvenuto al SuperBowl de Americano Nasheeonalle Futbol League!”
What?!
I jerked the computer into my lap. Upon closer examination, I noticed the logo on the top of the screen was not NFL. Nor was it ESPN. It was something else. In Italian!? Panicked, I fiddled with the settings, went back to the home page and read the lead in and users agreement. Nothing. Not one word that this would be an Italian broadcast. I fiddled some more. At one point, I had so many windows open the computer froze and I lost the feed altogether. Tears of frustration pooled in my eyes.
Dang it! Dang it dang it dang it!
“I just wanted to watch the Super Bowl with my family, God! Is that too much to ask?”
The Italian guy started yakking again. I listened carefully, trying to recognize words. (Spanish and Italian are similar in some ways. Not that I speak Spanish, either.) He sounded like a cassette tape stuck in fast forward. Jibberish. And then he said, “Pissburk Steeeeelers n Greeeeen Bayyyyy Peckers blah blah blah AbigAbenARuthalesburgr y Arrronn Rogayrs.”
Abig Aben ARuthalesburgr? Green Bay PECKERS? I laughed. I’m sorry. But that's funny.
As the game between the Piss Berk Steelers and the Greeen Baaayyy Peckers began, I found a blog that ran a commentary (in English) of the plays. I opened that screen next to the Italian announcer and voila!
Stella got game!
Admittedly, it was a twisted and distorted nearly beyond recognition version, but still, it was the game.
I did a snoopy dance. I discovered that by comparing the announcer’s words with the running commentary, then factoring in the not-so-great visual feed of the game, I was able to follow along.
“Passaggio incompleto!” (Incomplete Pass) I posted.“Bandierina di pena!!” (Penalty flag) And late in the fourth quarter when it started looking like the Steelers might make a comeback, “Meerrrddda!” (Crap)
And my favorite: “Greeeen Baaayyyyy Peckers sono i campioni di Superbowl della Lega Nazionale di Futbol Americano!”
The Peckers won. The Peckers beat AbigAbenARuthalesburgr. I can't believe it! My team never wins!
Okay, I admit it. I had more fun watching the game this year than I’ve ever had before. Even if I was on a diet. Even if I was alone in the Middle of Nowhere. Even if it was in Italian. Even if I did miss all the commercials. Even if I couldn’t hug my aunt or pick on my sisters. It was exhilarating. And hey, I’m already planning next year’s celebration. Oh, it will be Superbowl Italiano, make no mistake. But there will be a real television involved because I’m getting old and my eyesight isn’t what it used to be. I think I’ll have pasta and red wine instead of pizza and hot chocolate. I’ll invite all my friends to join me and my crazy family on Facebook. And – oh - I’m going to need an Italian-to-English book to translate. Or better yet, I’ll just get an Italian tutor a la Julia Roberts in Eat Pray Love and invite HIM to watch the game with me.
And hey - Whoooo Hooooo! Did I forget to tell you? The Peckers won!!!
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