02/11/2024
šBest. Super Bowl. Story. Ever!š
* I wrote this story several years ago when the Falcons were in the Super Bowl and the hottest band in the world opened the festivities, but unfortunately we lost a dear friend, Danny Rector, that day.
I cannot remember if it was eight or nine Super Bowls, that I was privileged to attend. Three years ago, I woke up to the world league or some kind of football on, and was wondering about the Super Bowl and I had died through it. Yes, died. That was a drag, but coming back to life sure has been a blast. I miss talking to my dad during the game, which was almost impossible when I was actually at the game, my favorite times have been hanging with my daughter and grandchildren and going to my own bathroom in my own refrigerator, and falling asleep and not really giving a damn. Iām not really a fan of any team in any sport anymore. Other than of course, the Atlanta Braves. I just love to see a good contest and as little bu****it drama as there can be these days. Just real men going toe to toe and head to head, giving it there all I donāt really have a favorite in this game but I just hope itās a good one and everybody is safe.
So hereās the story:
In 1993, my then girlfriend, Betsy & I, were privy to be part of Super Bowl XXVIII in Atlanta, Georgia. Her Dad is Jerry Markbreit, R #9, the only NFL Referee to officiate four Super Bowls. He was the alternate Referee on that day. We were treated like royalty all week long and shuttled around with legends, OJ Simpson, Gale Sayers, Frank Gifford, Pat Summerall, & tons more. Btw, I spent many hours with OJ, and I have to say that he was without a doubt, the nicest sports personality I have ever met, then or now. Very Genuine. But I digress. So the day of SB 28, we attended an unbelievable NFL Brunch party before we were shuttled to the Georgia Dome.
We sat in the front row on the 45 yard line behind the Dallas Cowboys. Betsy and my image was projected onto the big screen during the game. We all had a great time.
But here was one of the hi-lights of my life. We are being shuttled back after the game to attend the after party. We get on the bus and sit down and I look up and nudge her with an "OH MY GOD!" I said, "Do you know who the hell that is?!?"
She's like, "Some football player."
At this point, I couldn't say anything as he was standing over me. His daughter takes the seat and then he sits down... RIGHT. NEXT. TO. ME. I FROZE!
We ride back to the hotel for the after party with all this cheerful commotion about the Cowboys Victory. He never uttered a word, nor did I the entire trip. We pull up and a hulking man in front of us helps him up, his daughter right behind, then myself, followed by Bets. We exit the bus and he gets off, turns around and looks in my eyes and I stutter, "Champ, you're still the greatest! He reaches to shake my hand and my heart swells in my chest, while a lump forms in my throat that I couldn't swallow. His had was barely raisable and shaking uncontrollably. I gently grasped it with both my hands and he mumbled, "Thanks Kid."
As Bets and I walk away, tears rolling down my face, she said "why are you crying!" "Was it that big a deal?" And I tearfully choked out, "It would have been a big deal if he were a complete stranger on the street in that condition"
As we walked into the party, we were greeted by her Dad and Mom, a very elegant woman. Her Dad shakes my hand and turns to Betsy and says, "OY! What's wrong with the kid" (his name for me since she was 10 years my senior) She says, "He shook Muhammad Ali's hand."
Jerry pats me on the back, says a prayer in Yiddish and then turns me around and says, "It's very very sad." "He's gonna be just fine, kiddo."
The party was filled with so many celebrities from all walks of life, 10 feet tall ice sculptures of the 'Vince Lombardi' trophy, and Lobster, Caviar, Prime Rib, and the most elegantly dressed women I had ever seen. It was bittersweet. I wasn't interested. Near the end, OJ comes up and puts his arm around me and says, "I know, I know." I found out later that he had asked Mr. Markbreit, as I called him, what was wrong with me. That I looked kinda sad and detached. What a kind gesture.
Bets and I attended another 8 Super Bowls in our time. Sadly, we lost her in '06. Nothing in our Super Bowl history together ever topped that. Frankly, I can only think of 4 other incidents in my life that topped that. And those would be, in this order, the birth of my daughter, Nicki, the birth of my grandson, Ayden, the birth of my granddaughter, Amelia, and the birth of newest grandbaby, Elijah. ...
And that's coming from a man who's seen and done A LOT!
"Float like a butterfly & sting like a bee"
You're Still the Greatest, Champ!
RIP Muhammad Ali.
* I actually got offered a position in the halftime show as Musician and past on it, because I really wanted the day off to enjoy all the festivities and, there was no way in hell I was going to get up and Pantomine/liplip-synch in front of millions of folks. Although, I had, or did end up playing drums for several of the artists that were involved that day. One of which still owes me money. Oh well, I had a lifetime of memories in a matter of days, that packed one hell of a āPUNCH!ā
Life is sweetā¦ !!!
