Superbowl time is here again. Superbowl XL. That is a joke of a name. Superbowl Extra Large? Get ready for bigger mistakes by the refs, bigger tantrums by the players, and most noticeably, bigger player egos. Not the winning players but the morons on the losing team that will ultimately point in every direction in the locker room seeking blame without ever considering blaming themselves.
This third Suds Superbowl column is the first I don’t have to write about the New England Patriots. I was so desperate not to write about them last year that I wrote about the crappiest Dolphins team in decades. But when talking about winning and losing like a gentleman, even a Jets or Colts fan must admit Tom Brady does it the best. Don’t get me wrong I have nothing against The Patriots and have huge respect for everyone in the Pats organization. It is the boneheaded Pats fans I can’t stand.
People here in New England actually thought it was part of Belichick’s master plan to lose to Miami so they could play the Jaguars instead of Indianapolis. Yeah that worked out for him real good. It’s kind of funny that I haven’t heard anyone in Boston call Belicheck a genius for almost a month now.
There are plenty of players I can’t stand however none of them happen to be wearing the red, silver & blue. The two players I can’t stand the most aren’t even on the same team, unless you count ‘Team Manning’. What egos on these inbred-looking hillbillies.
Every year one of the Manning’s does something new to piss me off. This year was big brother’s turn calling out and pissing off the men that are paid to protect him. Yes Eli pulled the little bitch move during the draft, but Peyton’s mouth has proved he is a truly a bigger bonehead. Actually I think I will rename him Jughead! Ladies and gentlemen meet the Manning’s: Archie, Jughead and Betty.
Last year I referenced the Colts hopped up kicker Vanderjagt in reviewing Blithering Idiot Barleywine. I wouldn’t call Payton a Blithering Idiot but I couldn’t find a beer named Finger Pointing Blame Deflecting Bitch.
During the playoffs Tom Brady spent more time on his back than a tequila-drenched cheerleader at a Mexican prom. Did we hear him whine once? No! Even Peyton’s little brother who spent more time on his ass than a redneck with a thousand dollar scratch ticket managed to keep his mouth shut. So as the Manning’s, Brady’s and Jake’s start planning a spring full of golf and vacationing, we are looking to Matt and Ben to reignite the sport of football after two of the most boring back-to-back conference championship games in history.
I can think of a few minor adjustments that would make the big game more watch-able this year, starting with the halftime show. I am not even going to go into again how lame halftime shows have become. You all already know that. Instead, what I will do is to give you alternatives.
You can drop a few bucks and invest in the Lingerie Bowl on pay-for-view. Personally the thought of giving a cent to hosts Rodman, Jenny McCarthy or William “The Refrigerator” Perry makes me want to vomit. The upside of the Lingerie Bowl is both teams are made up of scantily clad lingerie models that will get you harder than a Priest at a Chucky Cheese. Yes, I know I am going to hell for that one.
If your Christian morals and ethics are offended by the previous statement, you might be better off watching the halftime show on the Christian network, SkyAngel. There you can watch a special edition of Sportsweek, the Christian weekly sports show with ex Cleveland Indian picture Tom McGough. God be damned, does that smell of suck! Can you imagine being stuck at Pat Robinson’s house drinking Dr. Pepper with this crap-fest on the tube? The only thing that would make this worth watching would be to hear Tom’s ex-Steeler co-host Robin Cole proclaim the lord took Terry Bradshaw’s hair because he was a sinner.
So what is my real alternative for halftime? You are going to drink and you are going to drink hard. The Bowl this year is representing two major drinking regions. From the mid Atlantic we have Stoudts: Weyerbacher and Rolling Rock. Penn is also home to the oldest brewery still operating in the US, Yuengling.
The northwest brewers are no slouches either. Deschutes Brewery, Hair Of The Dog and barley badass Rogue are regional favorites of Seahawks fans. So can we predict a winner of the bowl based on the regional brews? I don’t know about you but I sure as hell can. Just look at the running backs.
Football is about iron men: men’s men. In picking a winner for the game I have to go with the blue-collar team. Play hard, work hard & live hard type of attitudes are what win football games.
Every week we listen to announcers state the obvious. Stupid stuff like, “You can’t win a football games if you keep turning over the ball.” Well I am going to state the obvious right now, “The team that hits the hardest will win the game.” That said, look for Pittsburgh to be holding the Lombardi trophy at the end of the game.
Shawn Alexander, as talented as he is, looks like the only thing that he drinks is protein shakes. People want to identify with their heroes and quite frankly I have never seen a guy at a sports bar jacked like him. He looks more like a guy playing a flag football player in a Gap or mutual fund commercial than you or I. So who is the everyman?
The everyman is without a doubt Mr. Jerome Bettis. I am making a wild guess here but it looks like a beer or two have hit the Bus’ lips. Jerome looks like a guy that could be next to you on the sofa during the game; eating pizza, pounding beers and telling fart jokes.
It isn’t that often that we get to see a fat bastard like Jerome pound one into the end zone for 6 points. It almost makes me feel like if my fat ass had the ball at fourth and inches on the goal line, I could punch it in past the Colt’s D.
The other advantage the Bus has is the way he coughed up the ball in the end zone during the AFC Championship game. Bettis knows he was blessed with a second chance and seems to be the kind of guy that will not let a chance like this go to waste.
Advantage Pittsburgh! I am going blue collar all the way here: drink hard, play hard… win. Shaw and Matt please do us all a favor and go home for low fat lattes. There is no way the Seahawks can pull this off. For those of you that won’t be drinking lattes during the game or Dr. Peppers with Pat Robinson, here are my beer picks for XL.
Hair of the Dog Doggie Claws
The color is a great murky brown with orangey copper highlights and a tiny white head. This is an American style barlywine all the way. The nose is all about citrus hops with huge grapefruit aromas and big pine notes. The palette is a bit drier than the nose tends to lead on to. The floral sweetness in the aroma doesn’t follow to the palette. The yeast seems to have dried out the beer nicely. I can’t pick up on the 11.5% ABV either. Is the world’s most dangerous beer or I am getting overly accustomed to big brews?
Commercial description
Doggie Claws Doggie Claws is a Barley Wine made in the West Coast style. Big malt and hops make this copper colored ale one of our most popular products. Produced in September and October and released in November, this Beer will improve for years to come. Alcohol: 11.5% by volume. IBU’s 70.
Stoudt’s Fat Dog Stout
Here is a home grown taste of chocolate coffee heaven for you Bettis fans. It pours a perfect black opaque body with a tan head. The aroma is of toasted grain and roasted coffee with chocolate notes. The mouthfeel is very full with a coffee chocolate taste and nice hop finish.
Commercial description
From Pennsylvania’s preeminent micro-brewery, the Fat Dog is a fusion of traditional British-style Stouts. This unique bottle conditioned ale merges the smooth complexity of Oatmeal Stout and the extremely rich maltiness and assertive hoppiness of Imperial Stout. The Fat Dog has an inviting silky black color, and a prominent roasted malt character, with a chocolaty coffee-like finish. 9% abv.
Rogue Dead Guy Ale
Dead Guy Ale hosts a medium brown body with an off-white thin head. The nose is all about malts. I can’t pick up even the faintest hop aroma. The mouthful is slightly oily and buttery with a finish that quickly switches from sweet to a earthy dirty bitter hop.
Commercial Description
Gratefully dedicated to the Rogue in each of us. In the early 1990s Dead Guy Ale was created as a private tap sticker to celebrate the Mayan Day of the Dead (November 1st, All Souls Day) for Casa U Betcha in Portland, Oregon. The Dead Guy design proved popular and was incorporated into a bottled product a few years later with Maierbock as the elixir. Strangely, the association with the Grateful Dead is pure coincidence. Dead Guy is a German-style Maibock made with Rogue’s proprietary “PacMan” ale yeast. It is deep honey in color with a malty aroma, rich hearty flavor and a well balanced finish. Dead Guy is created from Northwest Harrington, Klages, Maier Munich and Carastan malts, along with Perle and Saaz Hops. Dead Guy Ale is available in 22-ounce bottles, 12-ounce 6-pack, and on draft.
This weeks number one pick is…
Weyerbacher Insanity
The easy way to describe this beer is Weyerbacher Blithering Idiot aged in bourbon casks. Think Randy Moss drunk on Jack Daniels and you’ve got it Insanity! It pours a deep mahogany with a mustache-thin white head. The aroma is fruity and flowery with a beautiful malt presence. The initial sip is full with a big alcohol/wood/bourbon flavor that is finished off with a touch of vanilla. As the beer warms, darker fruits start to rise from the glass along with a more pronounced aroma of wood and bourbon eventually giving way to traditional barlywine flavors including touches of caramel, figs and such.
Commercial description
Insanity, just released this past November, 2004, is Weyerbacher’s latest creation in the world of cutting edge beers. Insanity is made by aging our perfectly balanced Blithering Idiot Barleywine in oak bourbon casks. This incredible combination creates a melange of flavors such as malt, dates, oak, vanilla, and bourbon just to name a few. Insanity is 11.1% ABV. It is best enjoyed in a brandy snifter and served at 45-50 degrees F.
– Bruce G. Owens, Jr.
