A Super Bowl toast raised in memory
An annual game-day tradition continues, just the way a late friend would want it
"Crime musta just gone down in the city!"
That's how he'd greet you sometimes when he answered the door on Super Bowl Sundays.
Or he'd hit you with, "Damn, when'd they let you out?" The prison-release greeting always caused Def Comedy-type laughter. Or this classic from last year: "I sang the State Farm agent song. How'd your unemployed [butt] pop up here?"
Sometimes, he'd ask people at the door who they were rooting for. If they answered with the ...
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