Super Bowl Sunday was super

- not because it was a great football game with the outcome decided

in the last four seconds. Nor was it because of the revealing halftime

show or the humorous commercials. Nope ... Sunday was super because I

won an argument with The Wife, an argument about history no less.

We were discussing the premise

that throughout the annals of history, there have been many people who

have accomplished great things. But few have done so without overcoming

obstacles put forth by their nemeses. In fact, I said the enemies in their

lives is what made them great. The Wife came up with several examples

to illustrate my point: Socrates vs. Athens, Gandhi vs. the British Empire,

and John F. Kennedy vs. Castro. But, that history lesson will have to

wait until later; yours truly came up with a few examples of my own.

Superman would not be so super

- flying around the world trying to save everyone - if his nemesis

Lex Luthor wasn't trying to destroy things all the time. Batman would

just be another little rich boy with nothing to do if it weren't

for the Joker. Who would the caped crusader rescue if the Joker didn't

kidnap his girl friends while wreaking havoc on Gotham City at least once

a month? The Wife said I was being silly, and her examples of heroes vs.

nemeses were much better than mine. I respectively disagreed and continued.

I asked her, what about the

carrot-munching Bugs Bunny? Just how famous would he really have been

if it weren't for the gun-toting Elmer Fudd always on his tail? Not

to mention Snoopy and his legendary dog fights with the Red Baron. Why,

without the Baron poor old Snoopy would be just another beagle sitting

on top of his doghouse starring at his empty food bowl. At this point

in the conversation, The Wife sighed, rolled her eyes and had nothing

to say. It looked like I was winning the argument, so I cited one more

example.

What about me? Yours truly

had none other than Bradley McAllister (a.k.a. Down the Street Bully Brad)

to contend with whilst growing up. While I don't profess to have

been a great person in history (well, at least not yet), my nemesis certainly

was as bad as all the above. Back in Mrs. Newsome's third-grade class,

it was Bully Brad who encouraged me to eat a bug. He said doing so would

impress the girls. I did, and it didn't. During the summers I spent

much of my time running for my life from Bradley who seemed to be lurking

around every corner, just waiting to beat me up again.

Walking home from the last

day of fifth grade, Bully Brad ambushed me down by the old magnolia tree

right in front of Candi's house. Candi was the girl I ate the bug

for back in the third grade. If it weren't for Bubba Hanks'

bone-crunching tackle, Bradley would still be sitting on my chest pounding

me in the face. For many a summer after that day, I ran away from Bully

Brad. I'd jump over trashcans, bushes, and even Cripple Creek trying

to escape my nemesis. When I reached the hallowed halls of Briarwood High

School, things were no different.

Bradley chased me all through

the eighth grade and into the ninth. When Coach Reeves saw him chasing

me at recess, he sent Bully Brad to the office and asked me to come out

for the junior varsity track team. Four years later, I graduated from

Briarwood after lettering in track for four straight years on the varsity

team.

What event did Coach Reaves

see I had a talent for as I ran away from Bully Brad? Well, thanks to

years of running away and jumping over everything in a desperate attempt

not to get pounded, seems I had developed a knack for the high jump. After

the first track meet in ninth grade, Coach Reeves moved me to Varsity,

and in 11th grade I got second in the region. The region track medal still

hangs on my wall in the office.

I told the Wife that -

like Superman, Batman, Bugs Bunny, and Snoopy - without my nemesis,

I would never have had the years of training that helped me letter in

track for four years and get second in the region. The Wife then conceded

I had indeed proven my point, making it one super Sunday. I then asked

her what was for dinner and she replied with a grin, "You can fill

your own bowl, Snoopy."

[Rick Ryckeley is employed

be reached at [email protected].]