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You know something, Sunday Night Football? You’re really pushing your luck right now.
You switched out Faith Hill for Carrie Underwood, which was a little disappointing. You switched the theme song from something bearable to something I have to mute when it comes on.
You put Bob Costas, a man with all the charm and wit of a sea cucumber, in pride of place at halftime to proselytize about any inane thing that pops into his head, and I don’t even want to friggin’ think about it.
And now this Chiefs-Steelers match-up, which makes me want to punt adorable kittens into vats of hydrochloric acid, the kind that creates Batman supervillains.
Needless to say, I hate both of these teams in their own special intolerable way, but it’s like being the owner of a fridge that self-replenishes an unending supply of Coors Light. Sure, it tastes the way I felt after the Patriots game, but it’s still beer, and I’ll drink it because it’s just so...so...there.
Same with this game. I don’t want either team to win and hate them both with all my soul, but I’m watching. Are you?
Take your comments here.
By the way, in case you’re wondering why I’m not talking about the Texans game, it’s because I’m in Portland for the weekend and am writing this post on Friday and the Texans haven’t beaten the BESFs yet. But it’s coming.
Talk. Now.