So I can go back and erase the utter bs that was the Superbowl. I almost had a heartattack during the opening kickoff and then almost committed suicide after the defense couldn't stop the Colts' running game and Grossman kept getting picked off. All right I am being dramatic, but seriously, I almost left the party I was at during the fourth quarter. It was one heck of a party. Trays of deep fried chicken legs and venison. I had some schnapped up coffee. It was delicious, but I couldn't handle watching the game any longer.
To top it off I ended up at a bar on the North Side and there were Colts fans there. I wanted to puke and punch them in the gullet. Maybe both at the same time.
Chicago is one sad city today. We are the walking wounded. I wonder how long they are going to keep the blue and orange lights up on the Sears Tower and Hancock buildings. I wonder how long it's going to be until we snap out of it.