Tonight’s entertainment, if you can call it that, was Monday Night Football on the 75″ projection screen at the local bar. Steelers (7-3) v. Dolphins (0-10). Piece of cake, right? Here’s the guy version of what happened.
Now here’s the girly take on the game: The kick-off was delayed due to rain and they sent out gangs of folks to lay down new grass on top of the puddles. Miami made the mistake of wearing all white uniforms in mud, so on top of being the losing-est team in the NFL, they looked plain atrocious. Some player who got in trouble for being “slavishly devoted” to marijuana (according to the announcer) was back in the game until he got stepped on and had to leave. The Steelers’ Big Ben kept holding onto the football for way longer than necessary and then he would throw and miss or get knocked down. Nobody did anything of any consequence for 3/4 of the game. Finally, the Steelers got rescued by the kicker in the last 20 seconds of the game to win 3-0. I got to go home because it was WAY past my bedtime and I had enjoyed my cocktails. The wings were good. The shots were better. And the Fiance’ will be happy when he comes home later because he LOVES the Steelers the way panda bears love their impossible-to-conceive young.
As for me, I don’t know much, but I know that the kicker deserves a fine adult beverage of his choice. And that I’m no sports guru, but I know a good Monday night when I see one.