Dear Kid,

We are nearing the Super Bowl (you probably heard about that). And when I think Super Bowl, I think Super Bowl party. And when I think Super Bowl party, I think food.

And when I think college kid I think food.

And when I think college kid and the Super Bowl, I think food.

When I think college kid, dorm room, and extensive chopping and food preparation, I end up rolling on the floor laughing.

There are 4 zillion websites devoted to intricate dips, snacks, and fun food for The Big Game. None of them are designed for a dorm room.

So being the kind of mother I am, I have ever so thoughtfully provided this Guide to Super Bowl Snacks in Your Dorm Room.

Ingredients: A small bit of planning. Bowls optional. No knives or chopping necessary.

Crudité. Seriously? Probably not. If you want something green, check a roommate’s sneakers.

Guacamole. Buy guacamole. Open. Eat.

Salsa. Very similar to guac except you buy salsa.

Chips. Open bag. Improvise.

Snack mix. Go crazy. Open a bag of Chex mix and add peanuts or potato chips. Gourmet!

Need main course options? Not a problem. Pizza, burgers, a splurge on Chipotle, or even hop over to the cafeteria before the game begins.

Decorations. Consider semi-inflated balloons. (Sorry, couldn’t resist.)

Get your homework done before kickoff.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Sometimes life is easy. Sometimes we have to make difficult decisions.

Last night was one of the difficult times.

Football championship or Celebrity Apprentice? NCIS reruns or football? Football or Cash Cab?

Decisions, decisions.

I choose Football. And just in case you took care of your cold and went to bed at a reasonable hour, here’s what happened.

First the commentators tried to figure out if the Ducks would eat the Buckeyes, or if Urban Meyer would pull off the win. To keep it interesting, no one agreed.

I tried to figure out if I’d stay awake through the whole game. Just to stay in the spirit of things, I didn’t agree with myself.

First, let’s talk about the obvious. The Ducks should have won the sartorial part of the competition. They have coolest font for their numbers in all football. But they were wearing white tops and silver pants which looked white and their remarkable colorlessness was disappointing. The color guard was a close second, but they marched off beat, so no. There is nothing interesting about the referee uniforms. Points to the troops shown on the giant screen at the stadium.

National Anthem: Duck mascot looked dang cute with his hand somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. Anthem well sung; everyone cheered.

Game captains walk out holding hands. So cute. Hugs and handshakes all around. Likely to be the end of gentlemanly interaction for a few hours. The ref uses a coin that has neither heads nor tails, but everyone seems happy. Eventually, the teams lined up for the kickoff.

Marcus Mariota from the Ducks (all that white is just so unfortunate given that their colors are green and yellow) won the Heisman in 2014. He’s the only Heisman winner from Hawaii. This is important because guess where your grandparents are and I’m not?

Oregon pushes down to midfield. Is that a banana on the turf? False alarm, it’s a stylized football. (Booker thinks it looks like a banana too.)

According to the commentators the Buckeye defense is “stunned” by the first drive of the Ducks. But then—FUMBLE—First down Ohio State. But wait, must review upstairs. For a loooong time. And it turns out the dude was down before the ball was ripped out. Ducks keep the ball. This is important because it is the only time the Ducks will even consider turning over the ball. Not that it will help them enough (foreshadowing in case you weren’t sure).

The puppy is so amazed, he snores.

And a few snores later, the Ducks score their first touchdown. PAT snap is a little high but no one seems to care and the score is Ducks 7 Buckeyes 0.

Now it’s Ohio turn. Turns out the puppy snores equally for both teams. Bunch of plays, and the Buckeyes punt. As do the Ducks. Puppy thinks it’s snack time. Disappointment and commercials all around.

After getting pinned practically at their goal line and converting on a fourth down, the Buckeyes score. Flag on the PAT. Re-kick and now it’s 7:7. Or possibly 7:7 depending on how you look at these things.

At the commercial break, the puppy goes into the kitchen to see if anything has fallen on the floor. The urge to snack is strong with that one.

Pi and Dad come home. Much distraction, during which The Ohio State University scores again.

Second quarter. Ohio fumbles and Oregon recovers. Oregon, 4^th and goal. Scrum! Whistles! Ohio holds the line. Then Ohio oopses after the play and the penalty is half the distance to the goal (measured in microns).

Rinse and repeat. Yep, Ohio fumbles and Oregon recovers.

You know, with all the things the commentators have discussed, I don’t think they’ve commented on the fact that both teams start with O. I’m pretty sure this is highly significant.

More football. Ohio scores. (Sorry, got in a conversation with Dad, so I didn’t have much idea what happened until the instant replay.) Wait, not a TD. 3^rd down and 3 inches to go. So they do. PAT is good.

Oregon responds by taking a long time to get to a field goal. And after a failed trick play, we go to half-time Oregon 10, Buckeyes 21.

Halftime: Much conversation. Even more commercials. Probably a halftime show, but the TV people didn’t bother us with it.

Second half.

The stylized football still looks like bananas. I am rather fixated on this. So is the puppy who would like to share the banana.

Pi: Oregon is supposed to win, right?
Me: They may not have gotten the memo
Puppy: Banana! Banana!
Dad: There are no bananas
Puppy: Please?

Ohio State is on the move. Until Oregon intercepts the ball.

Pi: That’s Jalin Marshall, right?
Dad: Yup.
Pi: Way to represent the GMC.

(Jalin played in the Greater Miami Conference in high school. So did you. Now Pi does. The sarcasm is strong in that one. Don’t feel bad, Jalin. You’ve had one heck of game.)

Oregon scores on the turnover. But the moron runner may have dropped the ball before he crossed the goal line. No, upon further review the call on the field stays.

Oregon: 17; Ohio: 21

Ohio smashes through on a crazy 4^th and 1. The crowd goes crazy. Oregon responds by picking up a fumble (for the fourth time if you’re counting these things). The crowd goes crazier.

Pi: You can’t win the National Championship with 4 turnovers.

No one argues. Ohio doesn’t let the logic of this statement stop them.

Ohio prevents a TD. Ducks kick a FG. 20:21.

Finally, a commercial so I can go get a snack.

Puppy: Me too?
Me: You’re already in bed. No snack for you.
Puppy: Sad face

THE OSU says, whatev, and smashes down the field for a TD. And by “smashes” I pretty much mean “smashes” since several OSU runners left Duckie bodies strewn across the field.

The momentum goes this way. The momentum goes that way. I go look for some Dramamine.

Oregon 20: Buckeyes 35 42.

The commentators wish me to remind you that this is a very young Buckeye team. They’re all up past their bedtimes and Nannies will be taking them home after the game. Also, they should be back next year. And the year after that. And possibly until you are old and gray.

They also wish me to remind you (again) that the OSU punter is an Aussie.

Finally, they wish me to remind you how awesome OSU was in this game. You’ve been reminded.

I still can’t understand why no one thinks I should do the live TV commentary of big football games.

And so, the college football season comes to an end. Not with a vote, but with a national championship.

Who Dey!

I mean, Go Bucks!

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Some plot lines are predictable.

This is excellent when you are watching Phantom of the Opera. It is terrible when you are watching the Bengals in the playoffs.

I was watching both (three cheers for the hardworking channel changer).

Phantom had higher notes and more elaborate costumes. Other than that, everyone followed their scripts.

The Phantom vanishes, Christine sings, and the Bengals lose. Yup, script followed.

No encore for the Bengals.

Well, guys, it’s been a good season. Here’s to next year.

Who Dey!

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Just in case you thought violence and misbehavior in football was a recent invention, let me assure you idiots have been around for more than a while.

Case in point: Woody Hayes, one time Ohio State University (OSU) football coach.

Hayes had been the coach of the Buckeyes for 28 years at the time of our story. On December 29, 1978, OSU was playing Clemson in the Gator Bowl. (This is very exciting, pay attention.)

Right near the end of the game, OSU was down two points. A Clemson Tigers linebacker intercepted a pass (can you hear the roar of the crowd?) and was knocked out of bounds on the Buckeyes sideline.

As Charlie Bauman (the Clemson linebacker in question) got up, Hayes punched him in the throat.

Under no possible interpretation of the phrase can that be considered “good sportsmanship.”

It took several Buckeyes to restrain Hayes. Under no possible interpretation of the words could Hayes have been considered “calm and reasonable.”

OSU lost 15-17.

The next day, December 30, 1978, OSU fired Hayes.

It’s worth noting (because I say so) that last night the Clemson Tigers also beat OSU in the Russell Athletic Bowl. A different OSU (last night it was Oklahoma State University) and to the best of my knowledge no players were punched in the throat.

And under no possible interpretation of the phrase can last night’s score be considered “a close game.”

Love, Mom

In case you missed it, Oklahoma finally scored when Clemson pulled their 49th string put in several cheerleaders and a trombone player. The final score was Oklahoma 6, Clemson 40.

That is not a typo.

Dear Kid,

Once Upon a Time, there was no such thing as SCUBA diving.

It turns out that Joe Neanderthal’s friend Blorg once suggested they go diving. Since it was approximately four billion degrees below zero and Blorg was not considered especially bright, Joe suggested he do something anatomically difficult with the diving suggestion.

The first person to “breath” while underwater was Robin Hood (the fox) as documented in the Disney version of Robin Hood. (Go re-watch the movie if you don’t believe me.) He uses a reed as a breathing tube. Back in 500 BCE, a Greek soldier supposedly did the same thing (go ask PADI if you don’t believe me) but Robin Hood is cuter so in this blog credit goes to him.

Alexander the Great (best books about him are the ones written by Mary Renault, but if you haven’t read The King Must Die, you should start there) reportedly hid underwater during the siege of Tyre (I’ll look that one up another day) by using a barrel as a diving bell.

Do not confuse Alexander the Great’s Diving Bell with Alexander Bell’s non-diving telephone.

Fast forward, fast forward, lots of breathing devices (and “rebreathing devices”) were invented. Most were better left alone as they tended not to work.

Then ta-da! Jacques Cousteau and Emilie Gagnan created the modern demand regulator and an improved diving suit. And modern day diving was born.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

In 1891, James Naismith was sitting around watching clouds and butterflies in the Springfield, MA sky and decided to invent basketball. Actually, I’m not sure there were clouds and butterflies. And there wasn’t any sky because Naismith was inside.

The real story. Naismith went to college at McGill (in Canada) where he played pretty much every team sport, including gymnastics. Then he graduated and became the director of athletics at McGill and eventually moved to Springfield, MA, to be a physical education teacher (that was in the days when it was called physical education because we hadn’t invented the word “gym” yet) at the YMCA International Training School (now Springfield College).

In case you hadn’t thought about it, I should point out that it is not tropical in Springfield, MA, in the winter. In fact, it is downright cold. And up to that point, indoor games were not physical enough to burn off the energy Naismith’s class brought to the Y every day.

The head of the Physical Education department told Naismith to invent a game (in 14 days) that would “provide a physical distraction.” The game also had to 1. Not take up too much space, 2. Keep the track athletes in shape, and 3. Be fair and not too rough.

Naismith got to work and poof! basketball was invented. As he created the new game, Naismith wanted a game that didn’t have the hazards of a small ball or puck (so he used the big, soft soccer ball). He decided passing was the safest (there was no such thing as dribbling at that point—players had to pass the ball from the point at which it was passed to them). And he reduced body contact by nailing the baskets (peach baskets at the time) over player’s heads so that the goal was unguardable.

Clearly modern day basketball has poo-pooed the no contact part of the original rules.

The first game of basketball was played December 15, 1891. During the first game “Most of the fouls were called for running with the ball, though tackling the man with the ball was not uncommon.”

In 1904, basketball became a demonstration sport at the Olympics in St. Louis, and in 1936 became an official sport in the 1936 games. Cool note: Naismith got to hand out the medals: US (gold), Canada (silver), Mexico (bronze) and was named the honorary president of the International Basketball Federation.

Love, Mom