This year marks the first time that I haven’t sat and watched the Super Bowl in memory. The earliest one I remember is, of course, the Chicago Bears in Super Bowl XX. Now, 25 years later, I’m skipping one. Why? Not the whole concussion debate that’s given me a slight distaste for a sport I love. Not the overarching consumerism (and associated brain damage) that each Super Bowl represents. Not even the fact that this game was so clearly cursed, given the people injured by falling ice from the stadium (ice in Dallas in February?) or the several hundred people who came to Dallas with tickets but weren’t allowed in.