Super Bowl Party Fails
Expert Advice

Image: Deposit Photos, ArturVerkhovetskiy

This is advice for those all-in, football-fanatic gatherings where every eye and brain cell in the room wants to spend at least four hours laser focused on the ball on the big screen…and beer/BBQ pairings…and, during commercials, refilling our beer/BBQ appetites. For less intense Super Bowl parties, any topics are a go during the game. But not during fanatic 2024 Super Bowl parties. If you wander off the sacred topic of football or related issue, like beer and meat-laden foods, you risk becoming an immediate pariah, shunned by your fellow zealots. So, listen up and don’t be a party fail champion.

“You’ll never believe…”

The boss. The in-laws. The idiot at work. That guy who cut you off on the way over. No one wants to hear your drama. Unless it’s guaranteed to cause beer-spraying, startle-the-dog roars, then all restrictions are off, and the tale must be told. Otherwise, your mid-game saga better be short and relate to something you all just witnessed, like how that god-like leap into the endzone just now reminds you of the time Big Jay—who’s sitting next to you—tripped over the stool last year coming out of the kitchen without spilling a single drop of his beer.

“Look at those…”

When the game’s on, talk only about the game—the skill, the score, the evil bastards cheating against your team. That’s it. So, if you tend to notice more about the players than just their skills—and everyone who enjoys a solid, sculpted male body notices—then stifle the admiration for those tight backsides and arms so ripped they look more like a mountain range. The same for the cheerleaders and their bouncy attributes. Unless one of them catches the ball.

“My kid just…”

If you didn’t get it said before the game started, wait til the next tailgate or barbecue to spill about the latest astonishing sound, smell, or Jackass-worthy stunt by your kid or spouse or yourself. No matter their cuteness level or how new they are to the planet, kid talk derails the exhilaration immersion of watching 250-pound men dash and bash each other for an entire evening.

“Did you know…”           

You’re allowed to utter those words only as it relates to whatever’s going on in the game, not because the color of the Gatorade reminded you of that thing you found between your toes that was caused by some sci-fi-worthy insect in your carpet—even if you know every person there will be amazed and high-five you for growing such a thing. Wait until halftime when everyone’s disappointed by the on-screen celebrity and standing around the chili and nachos. That’s when you can say, “Hey, the green bits in the lumpy cheese remind me…”