In my fantasy world I'd watch the Super Bowl from on the field and through the eyes of a starting safety...preferably as a member of the San Diego Chargers.  Ever since childhood that was my dream position and team, even though I played Quarterback and Linebacker and rooted for the Chicago Bears and Minnesota Vikings.  Go figure.  In the real world I often end up watching the game alone or in the company of my Wife and, now, our two young sons.

I have done quite a few different types of Super Bowl parties over my career as a spectator and seemed always to have a good time (and often too good of a time...let's just say Super Bowl 26 ended up in a wild 3-way tie which had nothing to do with the Redskins or Bills).  However, there's a heavy element of distraction in any Super Bowl party that, if allowed to run amuck, can leave me hanging without the proper sense of closure.  I need to see the full spectacle of the game, right down to that ridiculous tripe the NFL calls a halftime show.  If I don't consume sufficient volumes of Super Bowl hype, pregame has-been analysis, over produced commercials, the costly flyby and tingly National Anthem, numerous sultry cheerleader shots (both teams' please), some actual game coverage, and a few other must haves, I can become quite the jaded football bitch.

But that necessary sense of closure became increasingly difficult to accomplish as the parties grew from me and a few grade school chums, to me and my drunken college mates, to me and a crowd of pulsating genitalled twenty-somethings, to me and my wife and an apartment full of competitive newlyweds, to me and my family and a house full of absolute chaos and mayhem.  In short, I can easily lose my focus if my college roommate is puking on me, or a 20 year old hottie is surprisingly macking on me, or if my coworker's new wife is critquing our wedding china, or if my neighbor's kid just pissed in our fireplace and now wants chicken nuggets and rootbeer.