The winner of the Puppy Bowl Fantasy Game is everyone
Since I live in Seattle, it’s been brought to my attention that the Super Bowl is coming. There’s been a never-ending tailgate party happening near Seahawks Stadium for what feels like weeks now. People are spray painting things that should not be spray painted blue and green. “Go Hawks” is a normal greeting and goodbye, even between strangers.
Now I’m not one to shame excessive fan behavior—I’ve got a Trail Blazer tattoo and a car decorated in University of Oregon insignia. But as a recent transplant from Oregon, a state with no professional football team (I mean, the Ducks look pretty damn professional every time they play the Huskies, amirite?), I don’t want to be a hanger-on. I don’t want to randomly attach myself to this very good, championship-contending team just because I conveniently moved here some months before the Super Bowl. It’s a little alienating. I am but one in a sea of blue and green.
But, of course, you’re never alone when you have the Internet—or the Puppy Bowl.
The Puppy Bowl is many things to many people. To girlfriends uninterested in football, it’s the antidote to an otherwise boring day. To children, it’s an adorable break from running in circles while the adults try to watch the game. To everyone, it’s really freakin cute. Even if you only watch it for five minutes, you get that little heart swell and know it was well worth missing a commercial. It’s the great unifier of Super Bowl Sunday, because everyone—dammit, everyone—loves puppies.
And this year the geniuses over at Animal Planet are pulling out all the stops, adding a Fantasy League. This morning when it was brought to my attention you could start drafting your team, all important things (re: going back to sleep after eating a mixing bowl serving of cereal) were cast aside. I can create my own team of puppies? That’s the American Dream!
Except it’s actually sort of depressing. Instead of choosing puppies for their raw athleticism, I found myself thinking about which puppies wouldn’t get picked. I drafted Van Helsing, a Basset Hound out of pity. There are only three spots, so choose wisely and remind yourself that they’re just puppies, they don’t know if no one drafted them (which is good, because Poppy the Shih tzu is screwed).
These puppies played tug-of-war with my sympathies. God, I want that Great Pyrenees—but everyone’s going to choose him! So on I clicked, looking for a pup less likely to be drafted. You have but a mere three spots, and they fill up fast.
You’ll also feel a moment of panic when you realize the Facebook picture that attaches itself to your Puppy Bowl team is of you holding a puppy. That might just be me.
And the comments! Damn, the comments! It’s a Puppy Bowl, it’s literally the silliest thing on the planet, but it has a comment section, so of course idiots heard the siren song and went running for their keyboards.
Perhaps the saddest part of it all was this section right here.
So turns out, I’m still alone, but at least this time it’s in a sea of puppies.
Photo by James Brooks/Flickr
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