Touchdown or Fumble?

Madonna for the win!

Last night at dinner, the menfolk went on a rant about the designated Super Bowl half-time performer.  I did my best to defend the Brit with the crazy muscular arms, but it was hard to bring them over to my side.  "You don't think a middle-aged gal from London can pull it off?" "She's not British," hubby informed me.  "What?  Of course she is.  Didn't you hear her on the Golden Globes? She speaks the Queen's English.  And Elton John hates her.  She's got to be British."  The eldest showed me his iPhone.  "She was born in Michigan."  Well, that shut me up for two seconds.  "I still feel sorry for her.  All that chutzpah.  She's got to let it out now and then."  "They should've picked the Foo Fighters," the first-born said.  "They should've picked anyone but Madonna," hubby said. I looked at them both.  "Why all the hate?" "She's a no-talent," hubby said.  "No talent?  She has a movie coming out this weekend, too."  The eldest shared a review of "W.E."  "There are moments in this movie of such honking absurdity that one can only slump in wonder."  Ouch.  "Now I really feel sorry for her."  The menfolk looked at me like I was nuts.  This wouldn't be the first time.  "How can you feel sorry for her?  She's worth billions of dollars," the first-born said.  "She's a no-talent," hubby said again.  "Well, I don't care what you say.  I'm still going to root for her.  I hope she scores a touchdown at the Super Bowl.  I hope she proves everyone wrong.  I hope she shows the world she's still got it."  "I hope she bombs," the eldest said.  "Count on it," hubby said.  Anybody out there with me?  Anybody pro-Madonna?  Let's get our own Madonna pool going.  Let's make this Super Bowl interesting for a change.  Forget the Patriots and the Giants.  Put your money on Madge.