Forget Valentine’s Day Gals! You’re Super Out Of Luck

Hey Ladies! The 2027 Super Bowl is Sunday, February 14 so be prepared to eat wings, chug beer and watch football because you’re not going to dinner at the Ritz Carlton’s Salt.

Well, unless you’re an 11 on a 1-10 scale and can melt ice by just walking past the refrigerator.

In that case he may take you to the Ritz-Carlton’s Salt. However, you’ll have to gobble down your Entremet au glaçage miroir au chocolat dessert fast so you can get to the nearest sports bar before kickoff to watch the game with your sugar daddy who’ll be nervously glancing at his watch as he’s already called the valet to bring the car around.

However, if  you, your husband, boyfriend, significant other, WNBA player (who isn’t Sophia Cunningham), or whatever is a Cleveland Browns, Detroit Lions, Houston Texan, or Jacksonville Jaguars, fan there’s no hurry. Fans in those cities are accustomed to sitting home alone every Super Bowl Sunday as they’ve never had a team go to a Super Bowl and won’t again this season.

They’re like Germany, Japan, the Confederacy, and Carthage. They lost, got crushed, eventually gave up and over the years finally acknowledged the fact they’re perpetual losers, grumpily accepting their second-place trophies and hanging up their combat boots.

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Is This The Year? This year, look for Redskins’ QB Jayden Daniels to lead the NFL’s Washington Redskins (I refuse to call them that other absurd name) to a really good year, maybe not a Super Bowl, but who knows. The Redskins have been to five and won three.

Every time this year I predict that the Redskins will do exceptionally well….and every year since 1992 I’ve been disappointed, but not as disappointed as the fans in those four perpetual loser cities of  Cleveland, Detroit, Houston and nearby Jacksonville, which hasn’t even won a participation trophy or much of anything of value since it was awarded an NFL franchise in 1993. Unless having a quarterback nicknamed Goldilocks counts for something.

The Redskins started off on an optimistic note this year. Not as optimistic as Sitting Bull at Little Big Horn against George Custer’s squad. But they escaped with a 24-22, squeaker loss to last year’s Super Bowl champs, the whiney Philadelphia Eagles, Sunday, on a failed two-point conversion attempt with less than a minute left in the game.

QB Jayden Daniels looked good, but the defense needs some work. I expect a much better than .500 season and certainly a better one than the locals led by Goldilocks down the road can hope for.

This week Custer and the hated Dallas Cowboys (0-1) are favored by 5-6 points but so was Custer at Little Big Horn and Sitting Bull walked away with their scalps, literally.

Hey, strange things happen in sports, even the NY Knicks ended a 53-year drought this year and won the NBA championship.

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Speaking Of Football:  Remember when you could get football and baseball games on your home TV free of charge? You had to listen to Howard Cosell but it was free.

Now you have to sign up for pay channels that cost several hundred dollars annually  And if your favorite team is eliminated early, you bury your sorrow by watching the guys that beat them or some other teams in strange far-off foreign hostile lands like Seattle or East Rutherford, N.J. the rest of the year as you continue paying. Even worse, you could be a Jets fan.

Are there any sports bars in or around Amelia Island? American Legion Post 54 on South 3^rd St. is a good spot with lots of TVs and members can bring guests. Suck up to a member and buy his beer. Hey, I’m a member.

The Falcons Nest called itself a sports bar, but I haven’t been in that place in 17 years. My first and last visit there was during an Atlanta Braves playoff game in 2010 that was tied up in the seventh inning and the bartender yelled: “Last call!” When I protested saying: “You advertise as a sports bar and the game’s not over.” He gruffly said: “We’re closing!” And turned off the sets and flashed the lights.

I’ve never been back. As far as I’m concerned, they fouled their nest. Don’t advertise what you ain’t got!

Last Sunday I was in  a popular local joint, that doesn’t advertise itself as a sports bar and it closed an hour before the Redskins-Eagles game ended. They never advertised they would stay open or labeled themselves a sports bar, so I didn’t expect them to stay open.

I drove down to the Sandbar at Main Beach to watch the end of the game and sat at an empty bar downstairs. I don’t know if anybody was upstairs, but since I didn’t hear cheering or gnashing of teeth, assumed it was also sparsely populated.

Any recommendations where to go to watch NFL games without crossing the bridge and might have other folks, besides a bored bartender polishing glasses and offers wings, etc.?

This Sunday I’ll be watching the Custer’s Cowboys and Sitting Bull matchup at PJDs Beer & Wine Garden at 12 South 2^nd Street downtown starting at 4:25. It’ll stay open for this game. The game’s in cowboy territory but my money’s on the Indians to once again wipe out the 7^th Cavalry, even though the bookmakers favor the yellow hairs by 5-6 points.

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Have Cane And Am Able: Since being diagnosed with arthritic spinal stenosis, I’ve recently been using a “walking stick”,  which is a balancing device without a handle, and sounds like something a person of an advanced age might use. “Cane” sounds like something an old man requires, not a gentleman’s accessory.

Anyway, having it reminds me of an incident many years ago when I was living in the Tampa Bay area. I was driving though St. Petersburg, which locals at that time referred to as “The city of “newlyweds and nearly deads”.

I stopped at a red light with my hood just a smidgen into the cross walk. A well-dressed elderly man with a cane was crossing the street in front of me and had to slightly walk around the front of my car. When he directly reached the front he turned and began banging his cane on the hood. I did nothing. I didn’t honk or yell. I was astonished. Satisfied that he had satisfactorily admonished me for my two-or three-inch intrusion onto the crosswalk, he turned and nonchalantly finished walking across the road. .

I admired his spunk and thought I’d like to be like that if I ever reached that age. Well, here I am. I haven’t resorted to the hood hammering stage yet but if I do, I’m hoping the driver is as shocked as I was and just drives off in disbelief with a story to tell.

I think I’m starting to enjoy geezerhood.