WILKES-BARRE — This is an alert — Super Bowl picks of area prognosticators will be printed in next Sunday’s Times Leader — the Feb. 8 edition.
So be prepared to submit your fearless prognostications to me this week.
But before I go any further, I must say Happy Birthday to my dear friend, Mr. George Toma, who is celebrating his 97th birthday on Feb. 2.
I sincerely wish him many more birthdays — and then some.
Mr. Toma, as we all know — or should know — served as the head groundskeeper for the first 57 NFL Super Bowls!
Mr. Toma is now retired and living in Kansas City, and he eagerly awaits Super Bowl LX, which will feature the Seattle Seahawks and the New England Patriots. The game will be played Sunday, Feb. 8, at Levi’s Stadium in Santa Clara, California, and broadcast on NBC.
Mr. Toma, as you all should know, grew up in Edwardsville and got his groundskeeping start at Artillery Park.
So, as the teams prepare for the battle royale, you all need to start making your snacks — kielbasa, deviled eggs, chicken wing dip, jumbo shrimp, chili, Nachos Grande, and salami cones. And remember, the party don’t start until the baked beans come out.
Enjoy the game, especially the zillion-dollar commercials — FYI, the Budweiser Clydesdales will be featured — and may the best team win.
Party on!
If you want some expert analysis, I will give you some free of charge.
The Seahawks will win this game for no other reason than they are by far the best team in the NFL. The Patriots are good, but Tom Brady is retired — he is, isn’t he?
The Seahawks will win because most people don’t like Tom Brady or the Patriots. Heck, the best coach in NFL history was snubbed by the NFL Hall of Fame voters. This anti-New England sentiment runs mighty deep. Hate aside, Bill Belichick belongs in the Hall of Fame. Fix this egregious error — immediately.
But the real joy is yet to come on Super Bowl Sunday — the partying. Unlike all those other years, however, I now watch and enjoy the big game in the comfort of my living room, in my recliner, and on my big screen TV.
And as the NFL season winds down, I look forward to baseball season and the Yankees. I can watch every pitch of an MLB game and never get bored.
My pal, Scooter, takes Yankee rooting to a much higher level. Scooter will watch the game, and then, if the Yanks lose, he will watch the replay and cheer again as if they might win this time.
So, I will prepare by making some delicious deviled eggs, some salami cones, maybe a tray of lasagna, and sit back and watch the action.
But I’m sure a good movie or a long nap may interrupt the football for a bit.
The biggest void for Super Bowl Sunday remains the absence of our annual gathering in the basement of Charles “Top Gun” Peterman’s home in Kingston.
We would gather around the card table in the basement of Top Gun’s house for a weekly pitch game — high, low, jack, and game — and it was always an evening filled with laughter and surprises.
But Super Bowl Sunday was the best of times.
On one of our regular pitch playing nights, Top Gun again schooled us on much more than the finer points of the card game.
Top Gun was our leader, our guru, our single reason for playing pitch every Tuesday evening in his basement. Top Gun loved the game, and he was the best player at the table.
On this one particular evening, one of our group decided to boast a little about a fish he had caught, beaming as he described in detail how he had battled the lunker, complete with astonishing statistics of the big fish’s length and weight.
Top Gun just sat there, like the rest of us, wondering when the fish tale would end — waiting for the right moment.
And that moment came — Top Gun fired back.
Top Gun was cordial, at first, as he began by praising the younger fisherman on his quite spectacular catch. And then Top Gun offered this:
“Oh yeah, well, I was fishing one time, and I hooked something really big. After about a 30-minute fight, I finally got it up, and it was an old lantern, and guess what — that lantern was still lit.”
We were all amazed by this tale, especially the young man who had just showered us with his exaggerated story about a fish he had allegedly caught.
The young man called Top Gun out, claiming Top Gun’s story was untrue.
Then Top Gun lowered the boom:
“Yeah, well, I’ll tell you what — you knock a couple of inches and pounds off your fish, and I’ll blow out my lantern.”
A drop-the-mic moment for sure.
That was Top Gun at his finest. He wasn’t rude or mean; he just simply made his point.
We lost Top Gun on Sunday, Dec. 4, 2022, and he is missed every day — especially on Tuesday nights and, of course, on Super Bowl Sunday.
Top Gun was one of a kind. Those who got to know him will never forget him; he will live forever in our hearts, and we will always laugh as we repeat all those wonderful stories over the years.
And Super Bowl Sunday is just another football game these days.