A super-dee-duper short one-shot I wrote during Superbowl season last year. (In history class) (While I should have been listening.) (WHAT? I was bored.)

Anyway, this has actually been written down for a rather long time, and I just found it today and went, "Hey, I should type this up!"

So I did.

Here you are.

America couldn't understand why the other nations despised American football so thoroughly, why they criticized it so severely. It was no more 'gay' than European football, it was no more violent than hockey (less, even!) and it was no more ridiculous than cricket.

The concept that the other nations (specifically the Afro-Eurasian countries) couldn't seem to grasp was that America (or more accurately, Alfred F. Jones) didn't really care so much about football as a sport. He didn't really care which teams made it to the Superbowl (they were all his teams, so why should it matter?) or whether or not he actually managed to get a ticket.

He did it for the tradition. The tradition of sitting in an enormous arena, screaming for and at no one in particular, spilling over-priced condiments and Pepsi all over the people near him and getting said liquids spilled on him in turn. He did it for the tradition of sitting sprawled over an overly-large couch, Canada by his side, surrounded by snacks and candy and caffeinated beverages, screaming at the television as though the players could hear them.

He did it for the screams and cheers and the sheer delight of his people. He did it for the camaraderie that raced through the nation as hundreds of thousands of people gathered to watch. He did it to spend time with Canada (who, though had only rudimentary knowledge of the rules of the game, set aside time each year to come watch it with him). He did it to feel his people's hearts swell with pride as the national anthem was played.

This year, he's sitting on his couch in his cramped New York apartment next to Canada, surrounded by Skittles and Snickers and Ruffles and popcorn and liters of soda, listening to the alternation screams of rage and loud gloating whenever their favored team scores coming from his neighbors to the left (Ravens fans) and his neighbors to the right (Raiders fans) as he and Canada just cheer when someone else is cheering. They sit and eat and laugh and make fun of the players and the audience and the commercials and just generally bonding as brothers.

For this one day of the year, America and Alfred are one person. What the two want is one and the same. For this one day, both America and Alfred just want to sit down with his brother and watch the game. For this one day of the year, there are no identity crises; there are no conflicts of interest. There is just America and Alfred and Mattie and Canada watching the Superbowl.

And there are very few thing he wouldn't give up for that.

Yay for random inspirations!