Something big is happening this Sunday that starts with an “S” – I just can’t quite remember what it is.

Is it the… S… S… “Simpsons”?

Oh I remember, it’s the… S… Suh… “Sex and the City” marathon?

Honestly, no matter how hard I try or how much booze someone injects into me, no one in his right mind could forget about the Super Bowl. It’s all around us, it’s in our heads and it floods nationwide sports headlines.

It’s the goddamned Super Bowl; it’s the biggest American sports event of the year. It is also the most overhyped, overblown, and overanalyzed event of the year that rarely fits the bill. The sad part is, there are two long, boring weeks in between conference championships which fuel the cold-blooded NFL beat writers to add to football frenzy by writing mundane columns about how the Eagles “might” struggle to defend the running attack of Cory Dillon.

Well no shit.

Cory Dillon is a pro-bowl running back; of course they “might” struggle to defend him.

But alas, that’s how it works in the two most redundant weeks of pre-Super Bowl hysteria. The Super Bowl will likely be a decent game, but why so much hoopla surrounding it? The best football game has probably already been seen in conference playoffs. If history has been any indicator, the best playoff football usually precedes the Super Bowl.

While the big game usually gives a unique, relatively unknown matchup, conference playoffs provide year-in-year-out rivalries that captivate far more viewers (see: Cowboys-49ers, Patriots-Colts, Buccaneers-Eagles). But instead the media puts on the proverbial kneepads for the Super Bowl and goes to worship at the church of Tom “J.C.” Brady. Rather than ESPN taking a night off and going in-depth about some of the best NBA or college basketball action over the last few weeks, we have to listen to the burnt out Joe Montana-Tom Brady comparisons – a comparison which begins and ends with “Montana.”

The one redeeming facet of the Super Bowl is that it gives a bunch of beer-swillers an excuse to not study for midterms, eat enough junk food to feed a small country and get tanked before the sun goes down.

So you might now wonder what I’ll be doing come Sunday?

I’ll be posted up next to the TV with my beer helmet on, hoping for another wardrobe mishap and some bomb commercials.

Oh, and I guess there’s a football game on to boot.