We're usually content to bandwagon whatever team is leading the Super Bowl at the half, but this year we tuned into the NFL early due to Brett Favre and the texting adventures of his alleged penis. What a dick. Then we became fascinated by the league's hurry-up redemption policy regarding Michael Vick, which allowed him to walk the ball downfield with no touchies for a five count whenever the hell he wanted, because all is forgiven when a quarterback runs. And due to TMZ, there's no not-watching Tom Brady and his Gisele-nurtured long hair. But all these guys are out of the Super Bowl, which is surprising or not, since we don't know anything else about football. Maybe you're the same, and maybe you want to watch the final game with people who don't care that you don't know a no-huddle offense from a wall sconce, or that you only come into your own during the commercials. Whatever: Super Bowl XLV: Men in Tights is the place for you, because it's at a graffiti-covered all-purpose arts venue and not at Chili's; it's being thrown by SF Indiefest; it has "SportsSweater Commentators"; and we're pretty sure it won't be overrun by diehard, foamy Steelers and Packers fans, with their cheese hats and shouty beer genes.
Sun., Feb. 6, 2:30 p.m., 2011