Romi Lassally: The Super Bowl Through a Mother's Eyes

Before last night's big catch, I had a small white dog named Tiki Barber. We picked his name three years ago, partly due to our love of the then-Giant's player, but more so because we enjoyed the irony that a rodent-like canine would bare the same name as a strapping athlete. However, after yesterday's Super Bowl victory and Tiki's mid-season defection, we've officially changing the dog's name to Plaxico Burress. Let me back up a bit for a moment. I am not a football fan. Basketball, yes (barely). But football? Nope. Can't do it. My husband -- and as a result, my children -- are football fans, specifically Giants fans. And genuine Giants fans (NOT fair-weather fans) who've been devoted since their dismal 0-2 start at the beginning of the season. When this underdog of all underdog teams made it to the Super Bowl, my family felt it was time for an intervention: They would make me a football fan no matter what. Old methods of patiently translating plays into laymen's terms and offering up stats ... (link)