Super Bowl XLVI, the ex-pat-but-also-tired-parent way.

I’m a NY Giants fan, which means when I care, which is rare, I’m following them because I’m from New York, it’s what my family does, and it’s who I am, and F you anyway.

Four years ago, the day we moved to Tsur Hadassah, was the last Super Bowl, the incredible event where the Giants kicked the faces of the Patriots in an amazing game that was talked about for its thrill and passion, something not always present at a Super Bowl.

And I missed it.

Because I was unpacking, exhausted, and didn’t even know how to drive from Tsur to Jerusalem. I followed the game in slow motion on the internet as sites updated scores live, while stealing my new neighbors’ wifi.

I thought I’d never have another chance.

And then I did! The Rematch, what an incredible deja vu, been following it for weeks as it all got narrowed down.

Found sites to stream it on, set up the browser, had work to do until kickoff… and then I said F it and went to bed. That’s being a tired American parent, in a different timezone during the Super Bowl.

I kinda thought a kid would end up waking me in time to catch the last 30 minutes. In fact, a kid did wake me up, just in time for the final score to be posted and the first photos of Eli Manning and the Gang looking ecstatic.

So I missed it.

Giants, Patriots – see you in 2016?

 

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