Last night the country took part in America's greatest invention...a day fueled by football and friends, by bright lights and booze, by overindulgence, glory and those tiny hotdogs with the cute little crusts that when you dip them in honey-mustard sauce it's just the best thing.
And as the Green Bay Packers ride off into the sunset, Lombardi Trophy clutched victoriously, the rest of us schlep to work in the morning with a killer Super Bowl hangover.
Eyes bleary, heads aching and with morsels of chicken wings still lodged in our collective arteries, we shuffle slowly and silently towards the break room's coffee machine.
The room is quiet and despondent. No one speaks. Everyone just stares into their mug. Steve from HR looks like he might cry. The mood resembles that of a wake, only worse. Football is gone.
Finally breaking the silence, Steve let's out a long, depressed sigh. With tears welling in his sullen eyes he turns to you and says:
"Well shit, man. What now?"
I'll tell you "what now," bro!
America's favorite sport may be gone, but its national pastime (as in, something to pass the time until football) is right around the corner.
So break out the Big League Chew, brush up on your sabermetrics and don't forget to remember to never step on the foul line...because baseball is back!
Man up, Steve!Or rather...it will be shortly. Pitchers and catchers report in no time. And while the two month lull between the Super Bowl and the start of baseball is excruciating, it gives us plenty of time to get our minds right for the coming year.
It's no secret that last year, the Darling Asteroids fell apart. With Evan Longoria, Hanley Ramirez and Matt Kemp all failing to have the three greatest offensive seasons in history, the Darlings lacked the firepower to compete through the summer.
When Stephen Strasburg's elbow tragically exploded, injuring 13 patrons at a local Applebees, our season was effectively over.
The team was just too demoralized to contend after that, and we failed to make the playoffs. Pablo Sandoval's head hung low for days. Poor David Aardsma couldn't handle the stress, and by season's end was visibly exacerbated.
Then Michael Young walked in and caught David exacerbating. Things got awkward.
Most preseason predictions I made also fell flat, as I went a lame 3-for-10 in picking division and award winners, nailing only both Cy Youngs (Doc and King Felix) and the NL East.
The actual season had a bitter end as well as the Phillies lost in the NLCS, sending the Giants to the World Series and me into a blackout after too much sadness whiskey.
I think the Giants went on to play the New York Rangers? I'm not sure, I wasn't paying attention. If you actually watched the World Series, shoot me an email and let me know who won.
In a shocking twist, Jacob wins the World Series.
What, you have something better to do?
You can't be serious.
It's no secret that last year, the Darling Asteroids fell apart. With Evan Longoria, Hanley Ramirez and Matt Kemp all failing to have the three greatest offensive seasons in history, the Darlings lacked the firepower to compete through the summer.
When Stephen Strasburg's elbow tragically exploded, injuring 13 patrons at a local Applebees, our season was effectively over.
The team was just too demoralized to contend after that, and we failed to make the playoffs. Pablo Sandoval's head hung low for days. Poor David Aardsma couldn't handle the stress, and by season's end was visibly exacerbated.
Then Michael Young walked in and caught David exacerbating. Things got awkward.
Most preseason predictions I made also fell flat, as I went a lame 3-for-10 in picking division and award winners, nailing only both Cy Youngs (Doc and King Felix) and the NL East.
The actual season had a bitter end as well as the Phillies lost in the NLCS, sending the Giants to the World Series and me into a blackout after too much sadness whiskey.
I think the Giants went on to play the New York Rangers? I'm not sure, I wasn't paying attention. If you actually watched the World Series, shoot me an email and let me know who won.
In a shocking twist, Jacob wins the World Series.But none of that matters now.
Today is a new day, a new season, a new year! On the back of steadfast determination and laser-like focus, a John Rocker Invitational Championship is headed my way.
I even have the perfect spot in my room picked out for the trophy: On my desk, next to my Chase Utley bobblehead, right underneath my Lady Gaga poster, right beside my reserve stash of sadness whiskey.
And in the actual baseball realm, this season is littered with new questions and answers. A number of stars have relocated during a busy offseason...how will they impact their new clubs?
In a symbolic move, Johnny Damon and Manny Ramirez signed with Tampa Bay, choosing to spend the twilights of their careers in the state most people go to die.
With Adrian Gonzalez and Carl Crawford joining the fray, Boston's lineup rivals the fabled 1927 Yankees, only with more black people (but just barely).
Zack Greinke was traded from Kansas City to Milwaukee, which is more of a lateral move, really.
And a certain Clifton Phifer Lee reunited with his best buddies in Philadelphia, prompting most NL clubs to bemoan, "Well shit, man. What now?"
And these tasty subplots are just for starters. Which lucky souls will be drafted to my squad this year? What will that squad even be called? And what is the over/under on Chad Billingsley-related poems?
While I can't promise any answers just yet, I can promise that this season will be filled with excitement, intrigue and unexpected plot twists at every turn.
Just keep your personal items close and don't make any sudden movements around Prince Fielder, and you're bound to have the time of your life.
Today is a new day, a new season, a new year! On the back of steadfast determination and laser-like focus, a John Rocker Invitational Championship is headed my way.
I even have the perfect spot in my room picked out for the trophy: On my desk, next to my Chase Utley bobblehead, right underneath my Lady Gaga poster, right beside my reserve stash of sadness whiskey.
And in the actual baseball realm, this season is littered with new questions and answers. A number of stars have relocated during a busy offseason...how will they impact their new clubs?
In a symbolic move, Johnny Damon and Manny Ramirez signed with Tampa Bay, choosing to spend the twilights of their careers in the state most people go to die.
With Adrian Gonzalez and Carl Crawford joining the fray, Boston's lineup rivals the fabled 1927 Yankees, only with more black people (but just barely).
Zack Greinke was traded from Kansas City to Milwaukee, which is more of a lateral move, really.
And a certain Clifton Phifer Lee reunited with his best buddies in Philadelphia, prompting most NL clubs to bemoan, "Well shit, man. What now?"
And these tasty subplots are just for starters. Which lucky souls will be drafted to my squad this year? What will that squad even be called? And what is the over/under on Chad Billingsley-related poems?
While I can't promise any answers just yet, I can promise that this season will be filled with excitement, intrigue and unexpected plot twists at every turn.
Just keep your personal items close and don't make any sudden movements around Prince Fielder, and you're bound to have the time of your life.
What, you have something better to do?
You can't be serious. 
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