The FGR Super Bowl Preview

I've done some informal polling over the last couple weeks regarding today's big game and it has yielded the following results with a +/- 0% margin of error (note that I did not poll any Eagles fans in the interest of objectivity and personal hygiene . . . and I've still never met a Chiefs fan):

• 99% of all respondents "don't give a shit who wins."

• 99% of all respondents say they probably won't even watch the game.

• 100% of all respondents will in fact watch the game.

Feels like the perfect Super Bowl matchup for what has already been a very fucked-up 2025. So much has happened in the first forty days that I had to be reminded that the year started with some whack job plowing through a crowd of people right down the street from the Superdome. Every day now feels like the longest week of your life but you can't make Friday happy hour to wash it all away because your in-laws just got into town with four suitcases full of Facebook research and opinions that will not go unshared. 

As for the game, I'm going to try not to let my preference for which team wins taint my analysis (because when do I ever let that happen?). 

Kansas City by 1 over Philadelphia: The Pick - Eagles 

"Wait just a minute . . ."

I don't care what anyone says, the refs helped clear the path for the Chiefs to get here and I'm sick of it. I originally wasn't even bothered by the constant Taylor Swift cutaways until it became impossible not to put them together with the obvious financial incentives for the NFL if she . . . er they were able to make a deep playoff run. At least when the NBA used to fix playoff games for the Lakers, they were a little more discreet about the shots of Jack Nicholson and Dyan Cannon.   

The following three paragraphs say it better than I ever could and are mostly borrowed from a movie released almost fifty years ago. Not sure if that should make us feel better because we've been here before or worse because it's the same shit different decade but I'll leave that up to you and whether you have a proclivity for optimism or pessimism.  

Look, we know things are bad – worse than bad. They’re crazy. It’s like everything everywhere is going crazy, so we don’t go out anymore. We sit in the house, and slowly the world we are living in is getting smaller, and all we say is: “Please, at least leave us alone in our living rooms. Let me have my Tostitos and my TV and a relatively uncorrupted Super Bowl and I won’t say anything. Just leave us alone.”

Well, I’m not gonna leave you alone. I want you to get MAD! I don’t want you to protest. I don’t want you to riot – I don’t want you to write to your congressman, because I wouldn’t know what to tell you to write. I don’t know what to do about the depression and the inflation and the Russians and the crime in the street. All I know is that first you’ve got to get mad. You’ve got to say, "I’m a human being, goddammit! My life has value!"

So, I want you to get up now. I want all of you to get up out of your chairs. I want you to get up right now and go to the window. Open it, and stick your head out, and yell, "I’m as mad as hell, and I’m not gonna take this anymore!!!"

Maybe they'll hear you all the way down in New Orleans and the better team will be given a chance to win. Or maybe the money is already in the bank thanks to the Chiefs making it this far. Either way, I will continue to choose unwavering optimism as my approach to life and faith that good things will come to those who deserve them . . . even if that means those people are from Philadelphia.    

Last Week's Record: 1-1 . . . Playoff Record: 6-5-1.