The Train Daddy is back with the pain, daddy, the Super Bowl is a thing of the past, and now we wait seven months. Kickoff for the 2015 season is Sept. 10; that means zero, nada, zip, zilch, no football anytime soon, my friends.

The New England Patriots will kick off the 2015 season in Foxboro, and their opponent will be one of the eight teams that will travel to New England next season, the Titans being one of the teams on that list. Yeah, right! It will be one of these three teams that creates the juiciest match-up: either the Steelers, the Bills or the Eagles get the honor of kicking off the season, I predict. So, the Super Bowl is over, and while it wasn’t my sexy pick for the big game, it was still a hell of a game to watch. I personally don’t ever find myself cheering for either the Patriots or Seahawks, but I found myself cheering for Old Tom Brady nonetheless. The man is a 37-year-old beast and, as Stuart Scott would say, cool as the other side of the pillow. He also lies down every night with his sexy supermodel wife, Gisele, a long-legged fox!

I didn’t want to see the Seahawks win it two years in a row. That group is amazing and punishing, but they are a little too cocky for me and I find myself annoyed by their personalities. Russell Wilson I do appreciate, though—one of my favorite players to watch. I love his play, speed, agility and the long ball.

I still find myself dumbfounded by that costly, stupid, dumbest-play-ever-called interception. Yes, dumbfounded! Oh well, there is plenty of career left for Wilson, and he already has as many rings as Peyton Manning has.

I have a couple conspiracy theories as to why the game ended the way it did, one being that Pete Carroll went full retard, like Ben Stiller in Tropic Thunder. As Robert Downey Jr. states, you never go full retard! The second theory was that the Seahawks’ coaching staff had enough of Marshawn Lynch and his antics in front of the camera. They wanted a true hero to represent the team, that hero being Russell Wilson, an educated player who could represent the team well in front of the media. So they let Wilson throw a pass from the one-yard line rather than handing it off to Lynch, and it ended in disaster. Those are all the conspiracy theories I was able to come up with.

Russell Wilson

Come on, man! Come on, man! Come on, man! Hand the ball off to the Skittles-eating monster, the beast, the man that just pounded the ball to the goal line with Patriots hanging all over him the play prior. Everyone knows that game ends proper for the ’hawks with a hand-off to Marshawn. I will say, for the little that Lynch speaks, he was composed after the game. Instead of bashing the coaches he said he wasn’t mad, because football is a team sport. No offense, Lynch, but you had every reason to bash the team and the coaches, the world knows it’s true. They took your touchdown away, and a nice Super Bowl ring, and a place in the history books. This was your destiny until the coaching staff went full retard with less than a minute left in the biggest, most important game in the world. That’s all I got on the Super Bowl. . . . Well, almost—just two more tidbits. Rob Gronkowski, the 6-foot, 6-inch tight end, is nasty, a force that is unstoppable when healthy. Also, Katy Perry: sexy, sexy, sexy; she gave me the roar of the tiger, and I think I liked it.

Let’s talk about some of my favorite commercials from the big game; hell, some people only watch the game for them, and the companies throw out millions to air them. We had a great game, a great fist fight, and a halftime show with Katy Perry riding a giant demon robot lion.

So why did so many of the commercials suck this year? There were a few good commercials, but all we got were puppies, dads, a car getting a boner from Viagra, and a weird Nationwide commercial reminding us that children can die.

Carl’s Jr. Super Bowl commercial

My favorite, without a doubt, was the one for Loctite Glue, with a bunch of goofy-looking people dancing with fanny packs. Maybe it was the alcohol in me or maybe it was just the fact that, after so many emotional and sentimental ads, somebody finally made me laugh. The Snickers/Brady Bunch commercial was great; anything with Steve Buscemi and Danny Trejo is great. And, of course, the so called “sexist” ads were great; Kate Upton, it doesn’t matter what she is doing; and the Carl’s Jr. ad with the bombshell Charlotte McKinney . . . well, hamburgers never tasted so sexy. Not all the females got my vote, though; the Kim Kardashian “save the data” ad was bogus. A bunch of selfies of that fat ass—it looks like it was sculpted from Silly Putty and blown up to max size. Yucky! That’s all I have on the commercials, it was a disappointing year. So sad.

So, that is all I have for you, ladies and gents. I hope you had a great Super Bowl with lots of food, friends and family. Seven months before we kick her off again. We will have to be patient. The Titans have that No. 2 overall pick in the draft. Time to build, Titans. I still envision a future bright, a future where we have a winning team, players that we love, players with skill. I fear we still are a long way away from that, but hope will eventually bring change. The Train is out the station. Choo choo!