Despite this post’s title, rest assured there will be no spoilers. I don’t suppose anyone is coming over here looking for the latest in sports scores, but even so, in all likelihood, unless you live in a cave, you already know the score if you’re into that kind of thing. But you won’t hear it from me.

That’s because the game hasn’t started as I sit down to write. It’s 35 minutes ’til kick-off. I don’t want to miss a minute of the game, so that means I’ve got 35 minutes to speed write. And if that’s not enough, I am full of grace for myself today — there is always halftime available. I haven’t watched a halftime show since the year before the Janet Jackson clothing incident. Bad timing on my part. Of all the halftimes to watch, that would have been the one. Still, I feel my life has been complete without.

The only reason I don’t stay in my seat for the halftime show is I either don’t know or don’t care about the headliner. I understand that I am not the demographic the NFL is trying to appeal to, so that’s fine, I understand. I don’t watch the Grammy Awards anymore either.

But back to the game, I wouldn’t want to miss a minute of it. Actually, not so much the game as the commercials. They always show replays if you missed the play the first time, but they don’t repeat the ads. You either see it, or it’s gone.

As for the football, I have a history with both teams, in terms of whom to cheer for. I lived in Massachusetts during the Belichick-Brady years, a great time to have lived there and join in the fun. Those were the Red Sox come back to life years too, so life was grand in New England. But now I live in Washington, and the Seahawks are an extraordinarily good team, and I am going to enjoy watching them play today. Easy for me to say, but I think the weather won the Patriots their game in Denver to get to the Super Bowl, and I don’t see how they put up any kind of game against the Seahawks, but I’ve been very wrong before.

Football aside, I do come for the commercials. Every year, I am optimistic that some advertising mad man will come up with the ad that will have me rolling on the floor. I haven’t been overly impressed the past few years, but ever hopeful, I am primed for tonight’s offerings, having limbered up earlier today watching someone’s generated list of the top 20 Super Bowl ads of all time. That first e-Trade ad, with the baby that spits up at the end, that’s my idea of great humor, and apparently that’s true for those that make up Top 20 lists. The other 19 were good too. Where’s the beef?

Every Super Bowl is like a wannabe advertising awards ceremony with one ad after another, all vying for the Best Ad award. I love it.

The one downside of this yearly ad obsession of mine is it makes me a less than ideal invitee to Super Bowl parties. While everyone else in the room is being sociably audible during the commercial breaks, you’ll find me with my nose pressed to the TV screen, glued to the ads. The definition of wet blanket. I readily admit it. It’s easier if I simply stay home. True, parties, generally, are not my thing. I’m the one who wanders off to look at the host’s bookshelves, and having found something interesting, fall into a comfortable chair and begin to read. I know, wet blanket. I could do better.

I see they’ve tossed the coin, so the game is about to start. I gotta dash; I don’t want to miss a thing.

Our musical interlude this week is from Roy Orbison …