Friday Book Whimsy: Super Bowl Crime Prediction

An article about the Super Bowl caught my eye. Odd, because I have been paying absolutely no attention to any of the Super Bowl hype, in part because my beloved Denver Broncos are not playing, but in larger part because the New England Patriots ARE playing. Again.

Anyway, this particular article caught my eye because while the sports people have been analyzing this game down to the very last detail, this author is basing his prediction on the mystery and crime novels that identify with each city — Los Angeles and Boston.

Despite the fact that the author is a (rather smug, I believe) New England fan, I found his article to be amusing and interesting.

Enjoy his prediction!

https://crimereads.com/predicting-the-super-bowl-with-crime-fiction/

 

 

Farewell Football

To paraphrase Shakespeare, Goodnight sweet football. And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.

And those flights of angels are the New England Patriots.

Last year on Super Bowl Sunday, Broncos Nation was agog with excitement because its beloved team was playing in Super Bowl 50, and they subsequently beat the Carolina Panthers in a great game. Well, a great game if you’re a Broncos fan.

But yesterday, John Elway was doing the same thing as I, eating queso in front of the television and trying to figure out why companies would pay so much money for such ridiculous commercials. Seriously, Spam? Von Miller was out feeding his chickens and gathering their eggs and trying to convince his hens that roosters were, in fact, “dope,” as he had proudly stated last year shortly before he was named MVP of the Super Bowl. The Bronco’s new head coach – young Mr. Vance Joseph – was reading the text messages he was getting from Elway stating things along the line of Hey V, I’m making hotel reservations for next February in Minneapolis; hope you’re figuring out how to make sure they don’t go to waste. And Coach Joseph was telling his wife, “Honey, let’s wait a year or so before we put in a pool.”

Well, Broncos or not, we celebrated the Super Bowl in joyous fashion in the same way that our family celebrates most things: with lots of food and libations. I chose to root for the Falcons, though I have only been in Atlanta a total of one time in my life, and that was for a period of four hours or so, just long enough to visit the Coca Cola Museum and then head off to visit Bill’s brother in Birmingham, Alabama.

My choice of being an Atlanta-Fan-For-A-Day was not really so much FOR Atlanta, but more of an ABP (anybody but the Patriots). I feel a touch guilty for saying that, because I’m sure to the extent that our Vermont family are football fans at all, they are Patriots fans. And there is, after all, this adorable shot of our grandson Micah…..

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But the sad truth is though I understand why Micah and Joseph are fans, I’m not. Still, at the end of the day, the better team won. Enough said.

But back to what really counts, which is the food.  When it seemed our Super Bowl party was going to consist of only Bill, Bec, and me, Bec was going to bring pre-made hamburgers from Whole Foods to munch during the game. To my delight, the party expanded to include my brother and two of his three daughters and their loved ones. So I made my own burgers, Bec made her delicious potato salad, Dave made jalapeno poppers, and we all drank beer and Bloodys.

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Bec made us Bloody Marys that were yummy.

poppers

Thanks to Dave for the poppers.

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And for cooking the burgers.

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Bill and Blake enjoying game festivities. Blake, like Joseph and Micah, is a Patriots fan, but also like our grandsons, we love him anyway.

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Jenna and Lexi are taking a break from fun to eat their burgers.

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Jenna and Lexi love their Aunt Jessie.

Farewell Sweet Football, until we meet again in August.

This post linked to Grand Social.

Football Hangover

If you had told me at the beginning of the football season (or really before or after any game during the entire season, because, you see, it’s me we’re talking about) that the Broncos would be in the Super Bowl, I would have called you C-R-A-Z-Y. No way. I’m pretty sure the only game we played this season that we didn’t have to wait until the final whistle to take a breath was against Green Bay. Meanwhile, the New England Patriots were winning handily, game after game after game.

Until they met the Denver Bronco defense the first time during the regular schedule, which presented them with their first loss of the season. And then again on Sunday afternoon when the Bronco defense sent them back to Boston to shovel snow. I’m no expert on football, but I’m telling you that Tom Brady got up Monday morning feeling out of sorts.

tom-bradyWhile I was in the hospital, my niece Maggie brought me my secret vice – entertainment magazines. I’m not sure why I enjoy them so because I probably don’t know 95 percent of the people they talk about. Still, I secretly read them in only a few places — grocery store lines, doctors’ offices, and the hospital. In one such magazine, there was a small blurb about Tom Brady and his gorgeous wife Gisele from which I learned that 80% of Tom and Gisele’s diet consists of vegetables. The perfectly splendid couple eats no white flour, no white sugar, no nightshade vegetables (??????), and no dairy. Brady proudly states that the ice cream he eats is made from avocados. Seriously. Avocados.

So he couldn’t even drown his sorrows Sunday night by eating a big bowl of Bunny Tracks ice cream drenched in hot fudge. Poor Tom. Instead of waving towels in the end zone, Bronco fans should have been waving signs depicting Big Macs.

I certainly didn’t count on a Bronco trip to the Super Bowl, but if it was to happen, I searchdreamed the opponent would be the Arizona Cardinals. I’m a Bronco supporter through and through, but Cardinals have become a team of which I’m fond. And I’m pretty sure Cardinals Coach Bruce Arian eats white flour, white sugar, and ice cream made from real cream. But alas, it was not to be. Instead, the Bronco’s opponent in a couple of weeks will be the ever-smiling Cam Newton.

Now, from what I can tell, Cam Newton is a like-him-or-hate-him kind of guy. Not being a particular follower of the SEC college football division, I don’t have a preconceived idea of the man. And since the Broncos rarely play the Carolina Panthers, I don’t have a knee-jerk negative reaction to them like I do to the Patriots.

cam-newton-86d1093fb4187b39Having said that, if you held my feet to the fire and insisted I give you a gut reaction to Cam Newton, it would be positive in nature. Sure, he’s full of himself. Sure, he does that dance in the end zone that other quarterbacks would never do. (Can you even IMAGINE Peyton Manning doing a dance in the end zone? A fist pump and a smile that looks more like he’s relieving gas pressure is about as much joy as the almost-always-serious Peyton demonstrates.) But Cam seems to be having such FUN. And, in his own words, if opponents don’t like him dancing in the end zone, they should keep him out of the end zone. I can’t say I’m very fond of the towel he seems to always wear over his head, but he has a million dollar smile, and you can take that to the bank. And you’ve got to give credit to someone who can chew gum and become the NFL Most Valuable Player at the same time.

I may or may not be paying my respects to Cam Newton and his team in a couple of weeks, but let the media blitz begin!

And to the Arizona Cardinals, you guys had a helluva season. I can’t wait ‘til next year.

Thursday Thoughts

White Christmas
Though Bill and I purchased (along with Jen) a house in AZ to avoid cold and snowy weather, we inevitably must endure some in October, November, and December. In fact, this year it snowed during the night before Thanksgiving Day, and for much of that day. I try to maintain a reasonably good attitude about the cold. After all, for the most part, I don’t have to drive on the icy roads since I don’t have a job. Bill is particularly susceptible to the cold because of his Parkinson’s (although admittedly he has never liked cold weather; funny for someone who grew up in Chicago). The other day when we left church, he stated the weather was “brutal.” I oh-so-helpfully pointed out that 32 degrees is not brutal. Zero degrees is brutal. He oh-so-patiently pointed out to me that what is considered brutal weather is perhaps different for each person. Whatevah.

Snowy Football
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And speaking of the weather, Sunday night’s football game, featuring the Denver Broncos and the New England Patriots (the Bronco’s won; did you know that?) was played in the snow. I HATE to watch football played in the snow. Even when I’m snug and warm under a blanket in my living room as I was Sunday night. I just think it’s such sloppy football and I always feel sorry for the players,  all of the folks along the sideline, and the people who chose to go to the game despite the weather because they paid somewhere near a million dollars for their ticket. The Broncos used to have a fan who wore nothing but an orange barrel to each and every home game. The so-called Barrel Man was even at cold and snowy games wearing his barrel and nothing else (well, I never checked…..) He has since passed away, perhaps from pneumonia. Anyway, the funny thing is that we got no more than an inch or less of snow here at our house in southeast Denver. Jen got just a few flakes. I really think the snow only fell at Mile High Stadium! That’s perfect, because nationally televised football games in the snow always help the Colorado ski industry.

Wrap It Up
I think I am finished with all of my Christmas shopping for the grandkids. Now I just have to wrap the presents. I can’t tell you how much I dislike wrapping gifts, and my distaste shows in the final product. Put the paper on the gift, stick on too much scotch tape, slap on a gift tag, no bow or ribbon. Done. Jen told me recently that I used to like to wrap gifts. Jen often tells me what I like and don’t like. Mostly she’s right. Except I don’t think she’s right that I used to like to wrap gifts. Her reasoning was that Mom always had me wrap all of the Christmas gifts. That doesn’t seem like proof positive. Here is a conversation that would NEVER have happened: Mom – Kris, I want you to wrap the Christmas gifts this afternoon. Kris – I hate wrapping Christmas gifts. I’m not going to do it. Mom – Okay Honey, I will do it myself so you don’t have to be bothered.

Off We Go
We are leaving Friday for a quick trip to see Bill’s mother in Chicago. As you will notice, next Monday’s and Tuesday’s posts are reruns of previous posts. Both posts are from an earlier trip we took to Chicago. Wilma moved into an assisted living unit from her fairly spacious apartment in the same senior complex about a month ago. We are eager to see her new digs, and to spend a little time with her just before the holidays. Bill’s younger brother will be arriving to spend Christmas with Wilma.

Ciao!

Thursday Thoughts

Boy Toys
You might as well start getting kids interested in technology at a young age. We watched Kaiya, Mylee, and Cole while their parents attended Curriculum Night at the school. Keeping 16-month-old Cole out of trouble is a full-time job. Papa entertained him with his telephone, and it worked. For a bit.

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Patriot Madness
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ESPN’s story about all of the ways the New England Patriots have cheated over the years makes my head want to explode. I simply don’t understand why the NFL keeps putting up with their shenanigans. Of course, Jen reminds me that as Denver Broncos fans, we can blame almost everything on the New England Patriots. As a matter of fact, one recent day when the stock market was volatile, one of the financial analysts with whom Jen works was grumbling about the role Greece and China were playing in the market fluctuations. Jen told him, “I’m blaming it on the Patriots.”

I Feel Like Dancing
This Monday at 7 o’clock in the evening, I will be glued to my paula-deentelevision as the spring season of Dancing With the Stars commences. I am not even ashamed in the least to admit that I am a fan. For the first time in a while, I will actually have someone for whom I will be rooting. Go Paula Deen! Do it for your old overweight fans. I never did blame you for the honest revelation you made about your inglorious past mistakes. I did blame you, however, for your selection of a PR team to handle the aftermath. Paula, Paula, Paula. Make up for it, Girl, by dancing your tail off! And, by the way, your fried chicken at Lady and Sons in Savannah is amazing!

Outfoxing the Foxes
In addition to their unending efforts to eat the tomatoes out of my garden, our neighborhood foxes have taken to walking around on cars that are sitting on the street or in driveways in our neighborhood. I can’t figure out why they do this, but they, indeed, make the practice a habit. It’s been driving Bill crazy, since his car sits in our driveway and hence, is walked upon almost nightly. You can see their paw prints. He doesn’t find it in the least amusing. He has tried various things to thwart their activities to no avail. Until now……

wolf in window

He printed out this photo of a wolf – with enhanced (and I think quite terrifying) teeth – and places it in the front car window each night. While I literally laughed until I cried the first night, he is now four for four in nights without a visit from the foxes. I wonder if the foxes are asking themselves how the wolf gets into the locked car. Here is a closeup so you can really see how terrifying it is….

wolf closeup

Leave it to Bill.

Ciao.