2/01/2006
Making Me Feel Old
Amazingly lost in this year's super bowl coverage is one story line which I don't like. Because it makes me feel old. And I'm only 25. And I don't like feeling old.
If you remember the 1986 Super Bowl as well as I do, this might just make you feel old, too:
Seattle Seahawks linebacker Lofa Tatupu's father, Mosi Tatupu, was a fullback on the 1985-86 New England Patriots.
I was beyond being just an avid Bears fan in January of 1986. In Christmas of '85, instead of getting presents from "Santa" I got them from "Sweetness" (yes, my parents led me to believe that Walter Payton drove down over the night and left presents for me. And I believed them until I was at least 12.) I knew every single word to the "Super Bowl Shuffle." In fact, there is a stuffed bear in my living room right now named Mike Singletary.
Let's just say that I vividly remember Super Bowl XX. I loved that Super Bowl. I sat around with my sisters and the kids from the neighborhood, ate Pringles and drank New York Seltzer, and watched the Bears dismantle the Patriots. It's one of my earliest (and favorite) childhood memories. Heck, I still rock a Super Bowl XX tee from time to time.
And now I find out one of the players from XX has a kid playing in the Super Bowl.
I've thrown my back out before. I know what my credit score is. I drive a fucking Honda. I know I'm getting old. I just don't like being reminded of it.
Crap, it's bad enough that the best player in baseball is my age (Albert Pujols) and the best player in basketball is four freaking years younger than me (Lebron James)... Now this?
Nothing really drives home how bad I have been at life like finding out stuff like this.
This is the oldest I've felt since I realized that I'm older than Tupac was when he was killed.
If you remember the 1986 Super Bowl as well as I do, this might just make you feel old, too:
Seattle Seahawks linebacker Lofa Tatupu's father, Mosi Tatupu, was a fullback on the 1985-86 New England Patriots.
I was beyond being just an avid Bears fan in January of 1986. In Christmas of '85, instead of getting presents from "Santa" I got them from "Sweetness" (yes, my parents led me to believe that Walter Payton drove down over the night and left presents for me. And I believed them until I was at least 12.) I knew every single word to the "Super Bowl Shuffle." In fact, there is a stuffed bear in my living room right now named Mike Singletary.
Let's just say that I vividly remember Super Bowl XX. I loved that Super Bowl. I sat around with my sisters and the kids from the neighborhood, ate Pringles and drank New York Seltzer, and watched the Bears dismantle the Patriots. It's one of my earliest (and favorite) childhood memories. Heck, I still rock a Super Bowl XX tee from time to time.
And now I find out one of the players from XX has a kid playing in the Super Bowl.
I've thrown my back out before. I know what my credit score is. I drive a fucking Honda. I know I'm getting old. I just don't like being reminded of it.
Crap, it's bad enough that the best player in baseball is my age (Albert Pujols) and the best player in basketball is four freaking years younger than me (Lebron James)... Now this?
Nothing really drives home how bad I have been at life like finding out stuff like this.
This is the oldest I've felt since I realized that I'm older than Tupac was when he was killed.
[At least I'll always have that Super Bowl Shuffle video to make me feel young and happy. That will never get old. "Well they call me sweetness and I like to dance...running the ball is like making romance." What lines! I don't think Bob Dylan could have written a better song.]
