All week long, we'll be keeping track of the weather conditions for Super Bowl XLVIII. Here is your Friday update.
Current temperature: 28 degrees.
Wind chill: 20 degrees. Wind chill is horseshit.
Feels like: Cold. It feels like it's fucking cold outside. But you can wear a hat. And a scarf. And you can walk to places. You can hold a Super Bowl in a Southern city and you know what? If it rains, you're FUCKED. One big rainstorm and you're stuck living between parking garages. Imagine if they'd put Super Bowl XLVIII in the ATL. Imagine bearing witness to that urban-planning clusterfuck.
The NFL traded off the shittiness of the cold for all the added benefits of New York City (efficient public transit, bars, food, rich people spending more money than you), and that's always a pretty good deal. After all, for a majority of the people in town for the game, no one made you come here. No one told you to wedge yourself into this stuffed briefcase of a city. You signed up for it. May as well sip your frozen Bud Light with a smile on your face.
Seriously, though: You couldn't pay my ass to go that fucking game in person.
Skies: It's one of those cloudy days where it doesn't even look like there are clouds. The sky is just fucking blank, a lost television signal. Maybe I'm dead.
Chance of racism: 37 percent.
Extended Super Bowl forecast: Temperatures are getting relatively warmer, which means that Peter King—who began complaining about this Super Bowl when it was announced YEARS AGO—will have ended up doing all that bitching for a game that will be played in conditions that amount to mild discomfort. At last, the Fairbanks Super Bowl committee has a glimmer of hope.