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The Super Bowl is done

By S.K. Bardwell
Posted Monday, February 5, 2007

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I watched the Super Bowl this year. I can't say I really enjoyed it, but I watched it. The last three quarters, anyway.

I had no dog in the fight, as they say, so it wasn't destined to be a really exciting experience for me. But a guest in our house does enjoy football, so we watched. He was rooting for the Colts, so it was a good game for him.

Since the outcome was of no importance to me, I was able to rate the game objectively. But, the only comparison I have is the football I watched when I lived in Dallas in the late sixties and early seventies. On the Staubach-Landry-Griese-Shula scale, the game Sunday was less than thrilling.

I'm not a big Prince fan either, so the halftime show had little to offer me - although it was way more elaborate than those "Up With People" things that used to take place during Super Bowl halftimes. A better show was put on by some of our neighbors, who evidently used too much starter fluid and beer during their Super Bowl grilling party (no personal or property damage ensued, just a little light show).

Here's the good news about the Super Bowl, for me: It's done. That means spring can commence. And spring training.

Right on cue, the sun came out Monday and warmed us to spring temperatures. It was so beautiful I felt guilty chatting online with my daughter-in-law in Illinois, where it warmed up to minus 1 degree, and officials warned people to stay inside.

I told her I wasn't sure I could survive minus 1, even inside. The misery of her weather, of course, is compounded by a 4-year-old who can't go outside. Here, I only had to contend for a couple of weeks with a rat terrier that doesn't like to go outside when it's raining.

If the weather stays like this, I'll be outside pruning and digging and planting and feeding this week. I think of this time of year as spring, no matter what the calendar says. By the time the calendar says spring, it will be too hot to do those things.

And it will be time for baseball, when the yard has to take care of itself.

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