Super Bowl Sunday is, of course, the most prominent holiday that really isn’t a holiday in this great nation of ours.

No matter what team for which you root, or where you live or even if you are just a casual football fan the rest of the year, on that sacred day you are united with the rest of the nation in one huge tribe – with divided loyalties of course.

Unless, you are like me.

I’ve never appreciated football. The Christmas of the year I was in third grade my parents gave my brother and me football helmets, shoulder pads and ball. They then left us alone.

I’m sure they were compelled to buy us such items because little boys are supposed to be interested in sports, especially football.

I didn’t have a clue how to throw a football then and still don’t. My brother and I wore the gear and although I don’t remember the specifics, I’m sure the games we played with it on had little to do with football.

My dad was not a football fan. He was not a sports fan. During his high school years deep in the Great Depression in rural Alabama, he didn’t have the time or inclination to become involved in sports. He was too busy trying to stay alive.

Now I’m sure some researchers would take interest that my brother turned into a real sports fan. He follows hockey and football and I believe, basketball.

The sport to which I feel some affinity is basketball. My interest came out of working at the Basketball Hall of Fame for seven years – the original Hall on the Springfield College campus. I liked the sport and was able to meet some professional players who were gentlemen, such as Jack Twyman, Dave Cowans, Julius Erving and Marcus Haynes. I won’t tell you which players were jerks, but there were a couple.

I still like basketball, but I don’t follow it.

None of that, though, gives me any credit on Super Bowl Sunday.

Over the years I learned how to project some protective coloring. If the Patriots are in the game, I know I have to mouth several phrases: “Go Pats!” “GOAT” and “Do your job!”

I did just that on New England Public Radio last Friday. Adam Frenier will ask me sports questions to see just how I’m going to react.

Those phrases, of course, don’t protect me when the universe puts me in an unexpected position. On Saturday I was at the Big Y shopping and a guy about my age looked at me, smiled, and asked if I was getting ready for the Big Game. Before I could stop myself, I smiled and said, “I’m afraid I’m not into football.”

I rushed into the next aisle so I didn’t have to witness his disgust.

The irony was I was shopping for chili ingredients, which I’m told is often on a Super Bowl party buffet table.

I spent part of the holiday in a movie theater watching a film that was very good. Please see my review in this edition. I thought the theaters might be deserted even before the game started because of parties, the numerous pre-game shows, etc.

I was wrong. There were a healthy number of cars in the parking lot.

I’m sure after the game, there was a rush on Super Bowl t-shirts at several sporting goods stores. I’ve never understood that phenomena, but then there is a lot I don’t understand.

Well, the good guys won. Brady declared he’s not retiring. The half-time show apparently was awful. And members of the Reminder staff seem to have an extra bounce in their step for a Monday morning.

All is well in this part of the universe – for now.