The Loop / Golf Digest — The Andrew Luck Book Club is, to date, the only consistently active book club captained by a functional NFL quarterback, excepting the one briefly launched by Jim McMahon in 1985. (They mostly read the backs of Van Halen albums.) The Indianapolis Colts QB/only football player on Earth to be regarded favorably as “the team’s librarian” is well-known as one of them fancy readers, and his book club has quietly evolved into a genuine civic joy that promotes literacy and has been adopted by a number of city schools.
Photo courtesy Ben "Le Petit Catfish" Niolet, actual New Orleans dude (and taken by his brother, Paul Niolet)
GateHouse — Thoughts, scribbles and stolen text-message jokes regarding Super Bowl XXVLXVIXCSI, which ended in a satisfying win for an iconic American city that has endured unfathomable hardships, and will, if there is any justice, spend the next five days drinking itself into a state of eyes-crossed, pants-whizzing oblivion. (Sorry, it’s all I can work up at this late hour, as its important to hear the winning franchise’s 275-year-old owner share his thoughts on the victory, because people really heart owners, and also FYI however long you think it takes to scrub a couple of bowls of queso out of the couch, it’s like six times that).
- As happens nearly every year, a 30-second TV commercial featuring a guy barely old enough to drink but who can throw a football straight caused me to adjust my entire stance on a major moral issue. Last year, of course, it was Eli Manning warning me about the dangers of sexting.
- How about that interception from INDIANA UNIVERSITY GRADUATE Tracy Porter, much-needed proof that they have those in the NFL. (Call me for directions to the practice field, Scouts of America!)
- According to TV, I, as a dude, do not spend nearly enough time thinking about the care and quality of my skin, which is entirely true, as I have never in my life exfoliated or moisturized anything important. So no, Commercial Than Ran Six Times At A Cost Of Six Million Dollars To Jergens Or Whatever, I am not yet comfortable in my own skin. And I’m not alone: “I’m about two beers away from being comfortable in my own skin,” cracked my friend Jason, while he was being much funnier than me.