The Super Bowl, and Goodnight

Look into my eyes . . . for the last time?

Look into my eyes . . . for the last time?

The Exit- I’ve been appearing weekly at this fair site for more than two years now.  But all good things and mediocre people must come to an end, and my time is nigh.

As the countdown to my exit began, at first it seemed that a Super Bowl recap would be the perfect note on which to depart.  But really, do you need me to tell you about yesterday’s game?

You saw it all with your own two eyes.  You’ve already observed, discussed, and critiqued not only the game and the coverage of the game, but also the pre-game, the post-game, the halftime show, the blackout, and of course the commercials.

The Super Bowl is, after all, America’s biggest unofficial holiday, leading the way for other unrecognized annual celebrations such as Cinco de Mayo, Earth Day, Kentucky Derby Day, Black Friday, Mardi Gras, and Angry Ward Sober Day, which I think is the third Wednesday of March.

Many of you no doubt celebrated by going to or hosting a Super Bowl party.  However, I was among those who ventured out into the Baltimore environs, lightly dusted with snow.  The original plan was to hit a local bar known as The Bloody Bucket.  But the girlfriend was none to keen on it, so instead the destination was a local favorite called Dizzy Izzie’s.

As you might expect, the place was a maelstrom of beer-soaked purple, loaded down with burgers and crab cakes and steamed shrimp.  I ate a pound of the latter.  There were ooohs and aaaahs and groans and cheers and the gnashing of teeth and the stomping of feet and roaring crescendos in full throat.

Dizzy Izzy's

Dizzy Izzy’s

Located directly across the street from where they used to shoot the TV program Ace of Cakes, this is the same place I celebrated Barack Obama’s victory in 2008.  I hadn’t even voted for Obama, instead giving my ballots to a Scotsman, a gift to a friend who’d lived in the country for 20 years but still didn’t have his citizenship.  Like that night, it was cold and the dark sky was lit by the electric festivities circulating throughout the city, The Diz being just one flourescent node in a network of celebration.

In the end, justice prevailed.  Jim Harbaugh’s dickery, which I’ve chronicled over the course of this season, was exposed on the grandest of stages, and a kinder light was shown upon Harm City a.k.a. Bodymore, Murderland a.ka. The City that Bleeds.

But that is the nature of ends: sometimes glorious, sometimes tragic, always the on the threshold of something new.

And with that, I say adieu, though my online presence lives on at  Hope to see you there, Vive La MtM!


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About the Author ()

Mattville’s George Plimpton, The Public Professor, is indeed a real, honest-to-goodness, legitimate professor at a major Maryland university. But because he doesn’t have a cell phone or cable, he’s crazy enough to be with us. A member of Angry Ward’s Urban Spur Posse, the terrorized Bronx graffiti artist’s by correcting their grammar. His loves? The Yankees, Knicks, NY Rangers and the Pittsburgh Steelers. He also has a real website: (

  • Brian M

    I just started coming to this site and you’re leaving – that sucks. I have you earmarked. Do you write about sports on your other site? You got me to notice the dickery.

    • Brian M… We blame you, sir, for his departure. Had you been coming in here sooner, plying The Public Professor with plaudits, we might have duped him into staying on… Now he’s going back to Baltimore with but one avenue for his worthy prose.

    • The other site isn’t exclusively sports, but I do cover it. Come check it out.

  • AngryWard

    Girlfriend? Tsk tsk. Prof, have you learned nothing from the whole Manti Te’o fiasco?

  • jgclancy

    Congrats to Grote2DMAX whose simple line- “Man, I hate Jim Harbaugh” said it perfectly. I cared not for either team but wanted a good game. I rooted for people’s gambling addictions instead even if they had bad boxes. My day of pizza, wings,calamari some nice desserts and a whole lotta Heineken made getting away from my toiling a good day.

    Good Professor— congrats on retiring from MtM–pity poor AW. Make sure Short Matt sends the parting gift basket.It’s usually a six pack of Schaefer, some old Easter candy and an expired coupon to Cracker Barrel.It’s the thought that counts,of course.

  • We are wearing black for The Public Professor’s passing but can manage to crack a smile for taking the 3 1/2 with th Ravens. Cheesy Bruin’s life just got worse: He owes us $2, payable in a foreign currency.

  • WestCoastCraig

    Prof, reading this makes me feel like Debra Winger’s skank friend at the end of An Officer and a Gentleman. Way to go!

    • Like that movie where Jodi Foster’s character gets gang raped in a bar on a pinball machine and Cher is her attorney and it’s a really grueling trial but she gets justice in the end??? (Yeah.. i’m too lazy to Google that.)

      • WestCoastCraig

        I think it was Freaky Friday.

        • AngryWard

          And Kelly McGillis. That was a lively comic romp.

  • Sam’s-A-Fan

    I’m pretty sure that Angry Ward Sober Day is actually the sixth Tuesday of February.

  • Damn you Prof. Damn you. YOu’d better be on this site regularly.. or.. or… something!

  • You Suck

    At least the dick didn’t win. That was the only thing good about the game for me. And Beyonce lip-synced the last song.

    • Agreed. Her mic was live but she faked it at the end. But we’re used to that.

    • The thing i was thinking about the Beyonce performance was that I need to get the outfit she had on. It’d be perfect for doing tri’s in. Leather and lace is TOTALLY aero. Second…if I had a few grand, I’d have some really mackin’ hair extensions.

  • Grote2Dmax

    I need to get a hold of your exit strategy.

  • Grote2Dmax

    and Jim Harbaugh is certainly as big a dick as we thought.

    • AngryWard

      If not bigger. When you complain about every single call, don’t expect to get one when it really counts. He’s like the boy that coached “wolf.”

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