We are Giants fans, and we are happy!
We always host a Super Bowl party. This year I said I wasn't going to, because we had another party planned for Saturday night. But the Giants made it to the big game, so we had to participate in some shindiggery!
As any sports fan knows, the outcome of any game is determined by the collective positive energy bandied about the country by the faithful few. Therefore, we have a few tried and true customs that we employed throughout the play-off season.
1. Team apparel is necessary. Also, if you previously wore a jersey and the Giants won, you must wear that jersey again and again until the Giants lose. The Captain wore his NFC Champions t-shirt from four years ago, even though he had a new one. He figured if he needed to change the karma of the game, he could change his shirt at halftime. I wore a Knicks t-shirt and black cardigan because it is the only New York-affiliated team apparel I own, and I wasn't about to change my lucky outfit at this stage in the game.
2. Change is bad. At the beginning of the game, the younger boys were in the other room playing a Pokemon game. After halftime, my nephew came in to watch. We soon banished him, because his presence was the obvious reason the Giants were losing. Likewise, when the fourth quarter rolled around, we made my M.I.L come back into the room, and shifted everyone back to their original seats.
"Mom," said the Captain, " I don't care if you have to pee, you're going to sit right there until the end of the game! We'll get you some Depends! Now, Three get back on the floor!"
We didn't let Four and Five come in until the celebration. We're not fooling around, people.
3. Knowing how to cross your toes is key. At the beginning of every drive, the Captain grabbed my hand, and I crossed my toes and available fingers. My brother-in-law cannot do this, which is why I think he lacks my faithful conviction.
4. Friends are allowed to watch the game, but only if they are rooting for the Giants or against the opposing team. Two's friends Charlie and Connor are Jets fans. Charlie was required to attend, because he'd been at our house for the play-offs. Connor got an invite because everyone knows that a true Jets fan hates the Patriots. At one point I implored them to "focus your anti-Brady venom!" Listen, I'm not perfect. We do not ever wish for a player to be injured. Just to get sacked.
5. Hot wings must be present. On the day of the first play-off game, Three insisted we stop on the way home from CCD and buy hot wings. Two and I bitched about how Three was going to make us late for kick-off, but we got the wings. The guys ate them, pausing only to exhale deeply in an attempt to cool their mouths, or chew a Tums tablet. The Giants won. We've had hot wings ever since, as a token offering to the football gods.
My father was the director of security for Giants Stadium when it was built. He managed to secure two season tickets at that time. I haven't attended many games over the years, although the Captain and my brother-in-law go to the home opener every year. The old stadium was torn down last year, and a part of my father went with it. We can no longer physically touch the place where my he sat to watch his team, but a part of him lives on when we sit and scream, fingers and toes crossed, superstitious and silly, together.