Game Over

So, the big game's over, Colts won (big whoop), Rex Grossman didn't win a Superbowl he didn't deserve to be in and Peyton Manning won an MVP award he didn't deserve. Game highlight? Well, for me it was the venison chili, but that doesn't really count as "the Game." Was it Prince dressed as Lucy Arnez at half-time? Was it surprisingly mundane performance by Cirque du Soleil in the pregame show? The fact that one of the major parts of the Colts game plan was to get possession of the ball to the opposing quarterback? In the end, I'm forced to go with the sheer quantity of turnovers keeping things up in the air (though having the opening kick-off returned for a touchdown was a really close second).

My big beef, however, was the crappy commercials. There were less than a handful that were funny, more than a few that were repeats (some many years old), and nothing that stuck out. Even the beer commercials were lame, which is almost unheard of at the Super Bowl. My personal favorite was probably the Blockbuster "pet shop" that aired before the game started. From what I've been able to catch over the past few years, the commercials seem to have been getting weaker. Will the trend reverse, or are the days of memorable commercial franchises (Jordan vs. Bird's "Nothin' but net" or the various Budweiser Clydesdale runs) over? Career Builder and Doritos to a lesser extent gave it an admirable try, but they still came up short. Only time will tell if the serial commercial days are done for.

In football related news, last night I dreamt of Lambeau. It was quite the dream, one of those where you don't skip around like in some dreams but actually carry through in your dream in a realistic progression from place to place and action to action. It started with me bar tending at Lambeau Field (something that would definitely keep me in the serving industry) and meeting Brett Favre on opening day. Some fans behind me in line gave him a Lowry's Seasoning Salt gift pack because they were happy he was giving them "one more season," which is just proof that even in my sleep I'm not funny.

Strangely enough, I end up being at the game with Rach, and I never get to the game in the dream (damned alarm clock, we would've won) because every spot she picks is somewhere we can't even see the field from. We go back to a spot we'd been at earlier, but "Cirque" cast from the Super Bowl pregame show have filled that section by then (they're eating popcorn and cooing like pigeons, the one obligatory "weird" of the dream). There's no rush, though, because the hockey players haven't gotten off the ice/field yet. And yes, I know, Green Bay (or even Wisconsin in general) doesn't have a hockey team, and even if they did the wouldn't play at Lambeau, but it was a freakin' dream, so leave me alone.

Anyhow, I'm gonna recap my chili, 'cause I really liked it. First, I cubed a venison rump roast and gave it a quick marinade in Worcestershire sauce and Dave's Insanity Sauce. Browned the venison in olive oil with garlic pieces, and pour off the juice. Add some cayenne, chili powder, and beef bouillon, and let that mix. Pour it back onto the venison and let it marinate over night. Then brown some diced onion and green pepper in chili oil and a little Marechal Foch red wine. While that's going on I heat two cans of beef stock, two small cans of tomato paste, one can each of drained and rinsed black and kidney beans, a can of diced tomatoes, and more cayenne, chili powder, a healthy dose of cumin, and some brown sugar. Pour the venison and marinade into the onions and green peppers, heat it back up, and dump it all in the the pot. Simmer for six hours. Seemed to go over pretty well (even got the nod from Mercedes once she gave in and tried it). I've gotta say, I think I'll have to make more next year. 'Course, I may have to go get my own deer in that case...