Well, well. The Colts won the AFC championship, which means the Super Bowl is gonna be a pretty big deal around here. And they’re playing the Saints, who are headed to the big game for the first time ever, after winning an NFC championship that went into overtime for only the third time ever (the AFC has only done it once – which makes three plus one equals four total playoff games that have gone into overtime), and also, incidentally, marked the first time since 1993 that the top seeds in both conferences made the final. OH, and it’s the first time in all of human history that a team has entered the Super Bowl with a leadup losing streak of three or more games. And several other hugely fascinating things that I would have no clue about if not for the internet, because I don’t give a papal shit about NFL, and my only dog in this race is that the Hoosiers around here are going to be more Hoosier than normal for the next two weeks (note: I use “Hoosier” as a synonym for “annoying in a Hoosier kind of way.” And that definition is “recursive” rather than “circular” thank you very much.).
No, my interest in this – and I would really like to know – is whether sports trivia has become more obscure since the advent of near-universal internet access? I wonder if there is a way to test. It has to have, right? Because if even I can know things like that the Vikings were the league’s first 0-4 Super Bowl team way back in 1977, what do you have to do to signal you’re a real NFL fan? Someday someone should write a science fiction book about a geek who develops a supermemory technique and uses it in a conspiracy with a bunch of other geeks to memorize everything there is to know about football, so that football knowledge is completely redunant as a signaling mechanism, and speculate on what happens. Really, I bequeath this sparkling gem of an idea to the world, because I’m generous and care deeply about All Humanity.