Nope. I'm not watching.

Quick story about a 6-year-old boy named Christopher Donald Crowell. The year was 1990. Most of the dumb little boys Christopher Donald's age liked sports, and most of those dumb little boys rooted for the Dallas Cowboys and the San Francisco 49ers. Emmitt Smith folders. Jerry Rice backpacks. And so on. The reason for that? Those teams were good, and dumb little boys are front runners. No one likes to follow a loser, especially not little kids. They're coldly logical at that age.

Like any other dumb little kid, Christopher Donald liked watching sports too, and like most dumb little kids, he didn't fully grasp the concept of rooting for your hometown teams yet. Don't get me wrong, Christopher Donald liked the hometown teams more than most — the Browns, Indians and Cavs were all his favorites, but he also had another football team he rooted for.

That team was the Buffalo Bills.

Yup. Even as a dumb little kid, when the world was new and exciting, and one could choose to root for any team in the world — when the common practice was to follow the Cowboys (3 Super Bowls during that time period) or the 49ers (3 Super Bowls during that time period), young, stupid Christopher Donald chose to root for the Buffalo Bills (4 straight Super Bowl losses).

... Even as a front runner, I lost.

****

I tell you that to tell you this: I'm not going to watch the Super Bowl this year.

Seriously, what is the point? Someone rationally explain to me why I should watch this game. The Steelers are going to win. It's predestined. And I'm tired of watching the Steelers win. Nothing about it is fun. Getting frostbite on my face would be more fun. Even if they somehow don't win, is there really joy in that? It's not like a loss is going to crush all of those insufferable, black-and-yellow dickheads anyway. They've already won two Super Bowls in the last five years. This is just eating more turkey on Thanksgiving when you're already full. It's gluttonous at this point. I'm tired of it. The whole grotesque affair can go on without me. I hear the Animal Planet is hosting another Puppy Bowl this Sunday — just a bunch of puppies running around for a few hours. Sounds good to me. Everyone's a winner during the Puppy Bowl.

But the Super Bowl is a party! It's an unofficial holiday! Everybody watches it! As a sports fan, you have to, right? If not that, then as an American. Would you skip opening presents on Christmas morning?

Yes. If every time I opened a present on Christmas somebody punched me in the face and told me I was ugly and nobody loved me, I would most definitely skip Christmas. I watch enough of my shitty teams play like shit in every shitty game they play. I see no need to pile on to my misery. I see no need to watch Big Ben Rapelisberger scramble around for first downs on third and long. I see no need to watch Hines Ward's shit-eating smile. I see no need to watch the Pittspuke fans celebrate yet another championship (which STILL puts you one behind Cleveland all time. Suck it.) I don't see a need to watch the Green Bay fans and players celebrate either. Screw them too. Until I see orange helmets on the field, or until the NFL brings back The NFL Championship Game, I'm not watching.

Listen. It's February. It's time to miserably watch my 8-win NBA team lose by double-digits; it's time to wait patiently for my last-place baseball team to take the field; and it's time to study up on the NFL draft. Everything else can go to hell.

Everything except puppies. Go puppies, and Go teams.