With Super Bowl XLVI looming over my Monday morning like a 800 pound gorilla (how does a 2:30 a.m. kickoff sound to you?) I thought I'd do a running diary of my Super Bowl Monday, February 6th, 2012.
12:01 a.m.
I finally fall asleep after two late-night sandwiches and a few pages of "Hamlet" inside my mosquito netting.
3:02 a.m.
I "oversleep," and play "Do I or don't I?" with myself before I finally rouse and turn on my laptop. It's 9-3 Giants early in the second quarter and the live streaming of the game on nfl.com works beautifully. A little grainy but no interruptions, sound quality is great, and I'm immediately right in the middle of the action.
I'm rooting for the Giants and when their running game and short passes yield gain after gain before a holding penalty stalls their drive, I sense a momentum shift. And a bowel movement. Too much OJ before bed.
3:39 a.m.
Two big uh-ohs. First, Tom Brady orchestrates a 96 yard drive to end the half, sending the Patriots to Madonna-ville with a one-point cushion. Second uh-oh: Power just went out all over campus and I'm at the mercy of my laptops battery lasting until the end of the game. It's at 61 % and fading like a Roxette flower.
3: 43 a.m.
Halftime and I quickly turn off my computer to try and save my battery. C'mon power...come back on!
4:06 a.m.
I hear a mosquito circling my cranium as I flip off my eye mask and resort to staring up at the mesh canopy until my half time alarm goes off. There's a group of bullfrogs singing with the crickets in an otherwise still night. I see the reflection of an opaque moon through my bedroom drapes and mistake it for a flood night. Still no power.
4:28 a.m.
I turn back on my computer and it's the middle of the Pats' second straight touchdown drive. My battery is now at 43% and there's over 12 minutes remaining in the 3rd quarter. Pats score again and they are suddenly up by 8, 17-9. I smell a dynasty.
5:07 a.m.
As the Giants cut the lead to two before the end of the 4th quarter, I prepare myself for evacuation mode. I put on my pants, socks and birkenstocks. I move from the bed to the couch near the front door. I wait for the end of the third quarter, put my lap top and charger in my bag, hope I don't get jumped by some night goblins and rush to my office 200 yards away hoping there's electricity in the Faculty of Arts.
5:11 a.m.
There isn't. I walk home defeated, refesh the ESPN Scorecenter App on my iphone and stay tuned in via that technology. Pats have the ball in the mid-4th, still clinging to a 2 point cushion, 17-15.
5:43 a.m.
I hear the electricity turn on and immediately run to the outlet, stick in the plug, and drop my external modem. It's the 2-minute warning, the Giants are at the 18 yard-line of the Pats, my heart is beating like a father expecting twins, and I cannot find my modem. I crawl around for three minutes and finally see it on top of my flip flop near the door. It had fallen out of my breast pocket the moment the lights came on. Very confusing. Not yet dawn. It could happen to you too. Don't judge.
5:51 a.m.
Everything is working except now I can't connect to the internet. The Giants have just scored a touchdown with :57 seconds left and I'm reading about it on my phone. I turn off my computer, hoping it will start to work before the game ends.
6:09 a.m.
Too late. I find out the Giants are the Super Bowl XLVI champs on my phone, as a hail mary falls flat on the last play of the game. Just as the internet begins to work again, I turn on the streaming video and see confetti fall. I'm glad Eli and the Giants are the champs but I feel somewhat cheated. It's as if someone is playing with my emotions.
12:01 a.m.
I finally fall asleep after two late-night sandwiches and a few pages of "Hamlet" inside my mosquito netting.
3:02 a.m.
I "oversleep," and play "Do I or don't I?" with myself before I finally rouse and turn on my laptop. It's 9-3 Giants early in the second quarter and the live streaming of the game on nfl.com works beautifully. A little grainy but no interruptions, sound quality is great, and I'm immediately right in the middle of the action.
I'm rooting for the Giants and when their running game and short passes yield gain after gain before a holding penalty stalls their drive, I sense a momentum shift. And a bowel movement. Too much OJ before bed.
3:39 a.m.
Two big uh-ohs. First, Tom Brady orchestrates a 96 yard drive to end the half, sending the Patriots to Madonna-ville with a one-point cushion. Second uh-oh: Power just went out all over campus and I'm at the mercy of my laptops battery lasting until the end of the game. It's at 61 % and fading like a Roxette flower.
3: 43 a.m.
Halftime and I quickly turn off my computer to try and save my battery. C'mon power...come back on!
4:06 a.m.
I hear a mosquito circling my cranium as I flip off my eye mask and resort to staring up at the mesh canopy until my half time alarm goes off. There's a group of bullfrogs singing with the crickets in an otherwise still night. I see the reflection of an opaque moon through my bedroom drapes and mistake it for a flood night. Still no power.
4:28 a.m.
I turn back on my computer and it's the middle of the Pats' second straight touchdown drive. My battery is now at 43% and there's over 12 minutes remaining in the 3rd quarter. Pats score again and they are suddenly up by 8, 17-9. I smell a dynasty.
5:07 a.m.
As the Giants cut the lead to two before the end of the 4th quarter, I prepare myself for evacuation mode. I put on my pants, socks and birkenstocks. I move from the bed to the couch near the front door. I wait for the end of the third quarter, put my lap top and charger in my bag, hope I don't get jumped by some night goblins and rush to my office 200 yards away hoping there's electricity in the Faculty of Arts.
5:11 a.m.
There isn't. I walk home defeated, refesh the ESPN Scorecenter App on my iphone and stay tuned in via that technology. Pats have the ball in the mid-4th, still clinging to a 2 point cushion, 17-15.
5:43 a.m.
I hear the electricity turn on and immediately run to the outlet, stick in the plug, and drop my external modem. It's the 2-minute warning, the Giants are at the 18 yard-line of the Pats, my heart is beating like a father expecting twins, and I cannot find my modem. I crawl around for three minutes and finally see it on top of my flip flop near the door. It had fallen out of my breast pocket the moment the lights came on. Very confusing. Not yet dawn. It could happen to you too. Don't judge.
5:51 a.m.
Everything is working except now I can't connect to the internet. The Giants have just scored a touchdown with :57 seconds left and I'm reading about it on my phone. I turn off my computer, hoping it will start to work before the game ends.
6:09 a.m.
Too late. I find out the Giants are the Super Bowl XLVI champs on my phone, as a hail mary falls flat on the last play of the game. Just as the internet begins to work again, I turn on the streaming video and see confetti fall. I'm glad Eli and the Giants are the champs but I feel somewhat cheated. It's as if someone is playing with my emotions.
7:08 a.m.
I drink coffee and watch the post-game show, review the 4th quarter highlights that I missed, take a cold bath, and try to get ready for my 10:00 a.m. staff meeting. I can pretty much guarantee nobody within a ten mile radius was doing what I was doing, watching what I was watching, all through the night. I step outside and remember I live in Africa. And I feel far away from home.
I drink coffee and watch the post-game show, review the 4th quarter highlights that I missed, take a cold bath, and try to get ready for my 10:00 a.m. staff meeting. I can pretty much guarantee nobody within a ten mile radius was doing what I was doing, watching what I was watching, all through the night. I step outside and remember I live in Africa. And I feel far away from home.
