Superbowl Sunday

Superbowl Sunday, Wimbledon Fortnight and the Boat Race. Three events that have in common that a number of people in the United Kingdom suddenly start watching a sport they've no interest in, for no obvious reason.

For those that have missed it in the past - well done. But if you're daft enough to want an explanation:

It's a little like the old Japanese game show Endurance. Before the game, and at half time, the competitors have to endure extreme psychological torture. This can involve the singing of somebody called Timberlake, or people from Glee, or the unexpected revealing of parts of the anatomy of the Jackson family that nobody really wanted to see. After this the "footballers" run out onto the pitch.

Their main job is to stand around while people throw "flags" (coloured hankies) onto the pitch. Every now and then they form two rows opposite each other, and then run into each other.  It's essential that everyone wear enormous amounts of body armour, as underneath it they're all about 4 foot 3 and weedy, and the cameras wouldn't be able to pick them up very well.

The game is non-stop. Or, at least, the television is. The game itself stops all the time while people look at all the flags that were thrown around last time, or somebody explains the rules, or there's an ad break, or Celine Dion makes yet another attempt to sing a song before being wrestled to the ground. If  Celine actually sings a song, this is called a "down" as that's how everybody feels.

Sometime after the Superbowl starts, it ends again. Someone will have won. Nobody will care, as they will have filled themselves with low-calorie, low-taste American beer that is comprised almost entirely of rice. And also as, while the fault-lines of tribal allegiance run deep in Britain over such matters as proper football, in America the teams are soul-less franchises like MK Dons.  The male of the household will go to bed and explain to his sleep-befuddled and indifferent partner the difference between a linebacker and a tight end, like it matters.

For a few days before and after the event, normally sane middle-aged men walk around talking about the Packers' "shotgun" and the Steelers' "Hail Mary" as if they know what they mean. Just ignore them. It will only be a few months before they start lambasting Andy Murray for "foot faults", or complaining about no-balls as if they understand the change from the back- to the front-foot law.