‘Weather’ or not you’re ready … here comes the Super Bowl

So, this being the third Super Bowl I am writing about, I’ve already used up all of my material. You know, the women that really don’t want to watch the game, the men that really don’t want the women there, all the rules of what and what not the women can speak about (icksnay on how cute the players are, love the color of the uniform, etc.) I’ve also written about the amount of food, mostly in the tons, that are consumed, and all the Pepto Bismol that is bought the Monday after the game.

I was stuck, and lamenting to my husband Jerry, that I had nothing of interest this year, except that the game would be played in frigid weather. I figured I would compare it to the Freeze Bowl between the Bengals and the Chargers, when he said, “I’ve got it, you’ll knock it out of the park with this one: Sid Luckman.”

“Sid Luckman?” I asked. “Was he an old friend of yours I never heard of, or is this going to be a never heard of story you pulled out of your Jerry-tool kit?”

“Yes, one of those stories. We were able to sit in his seats, in the ’80s on the 50 yard line, first row right behind the Giants’ bench,” Jerry responded. (An aside to women who are not into football: Those seats is equivalent to standing in a pair of Louboutins or better yet wearing a custom tailored Channel evening gown. The seats don’t get better than those.)

I heard all about how he, his son Yoni and daughter Elana, were so close to the players, they got to speak to Laurence Taylor, Phil Simms and Mark Bavaro through the game. (Ladies and gents, to those who don’t follow football, let’s just say that would be like hobnobbing with the likes of Sinatra, Brad Pitt, George Clooney, Liz Taylor and Sophia Vargara.)

“You were able to afford those tickets?” I inquired. Jerry replied, “No, I went for free. A friend of mine knew Sid Luckman and I was given his seats from time to time.”

So there I was on my computer looking up Sid Luckman.