Super Sunday Monday Morning

Man, what a game! And the talk, and food, --and beverage. A little too much for a man who lives a simple life. I was up all night with gastrointestinal protest.

One thing I want to note. I found myself, already in the first series, following the lead of the lady of the house, pulling for the Giants! I believe initially we were all of the conviction "uncommitted", but already in that first series, when the lady of the house (and of the splendid culinary talent), after a completed pass let out a whoop and said: "I guess I am pulling for the Giants", already then I guess I had to say too, that I was pulling for the Giants. And I don't know why.

I am certain I had no animosity or envy toward that splendid team the Patriots and their attempt for a perfect season, yet I found myself pulling for the Giants and delighted when they finally won.

I don't understand this, I only note it. I know I would have been pleased had the Patriots won, but I was delighted when the Giants won...?

Has to have something to do with just the ordinary American impulse to pull for the scrappy underdog. But you do gotta like the underdog. I am not pulling for Ron Paul; I am not pulling for Mitt Romney, who at this point has to be considered the underdog; and I am not pulling for the ascendant victory of the minority in nut right wing radio. Instead I pull for their defeat, their destruction, their utter anihilation, so that they might taste ash in their mouths for the rest of their lives. Or vote for John McCain, whichever.