I’ll be the first to admit I was a little wary about going to a Super Bowl party thrown by some female friends of mine. I mean, sure, the food would be good, but there’s value in watching the game in the perfect, desired atmosphere: sports guys, big television, chips, submarine sandwiches and lots of brew.

Now I’m not trying to target women here. I’ve met many women with a fine knowledge and passion for the game of football, but there are certain social and personal constraints placed on a man while in the same environment as women.

I didn’t want to make an idiot out of myself, so I would have to limit my cussing and stay away from admitted foolish jock conversation. I’d also have to limit my intake of food and beverage to curb their sometimes-nasty results. In short, it would become less about the game and more about me trying not to look like the hygiene-challenged sports zealot I really am.

At first, I wholeheartedly refused to go to the party. I had a whole season of watching football under my belt and I didn’t want anything to spoil what had been elected the “game of the year.”

And all the signs were there. It was going to be a great game. The NFL’s most valuable player in Rich Gannon would take his No. 1-rated Raider offense against Tampa Bay’s explosive defense. Jon Gruden was returning to face his former team and friend in Bill Callahan. The game had so many fascinating sidebars, and I wanted to be engrossed in every minute of it.

Yet my roommates were going to the party, and there were going to be a fair number of sports fans there whose thoughts and opinions I respect. So I finally decided to jump the hurdles of my social anxiety and make an appearance at the Super Bowl party.

But, contrary to all the hype, the game was a complete disappointment. After a week’s worth of coverage that had me as giddy as Winona Rider in a store without metal detectors, the game turned out to be less than forgettable.

It started strong, however, with a solid opening quarter with plenty of good defensive play by both teams. A 3-3 tie at the end of the first quarter had me thinking that this would be one of those epic games where one team would just out-will the other in the closing minutes.

How wrong could I have been?

After Martin Gramatica’s field goal in the early minutes of the second quarter, the Buccaneer defense simply took over the game. Tampa’s front four had their way with the Raiders offensive line, making Gannon an easy and flustered target. Oakland was never able to find good field position, and after Mike Alstott’s two-yard touchdown plunge put Tampa down 13-3, the Raiders were reeling.

It was just complete defensive domination by Tampa Bay, who exploited the Raiders’ weaknesses to perfection by pressuring the quarterback and knocking receivers off their routes. Sapp and company made the Raider offense look as out of rhythm as Steve Martin in The Jerk. Gannon never found comfort in the pocket and never found his receivers until the end of the third quarter, where a 39-yard prayer to the back of the end zone was answered by Jerry Porter, bringing the Raiders back, 34-9.

By the time Eric Johnson returned a blocked Tampa punt for a touchdown, the room was as absent of interest as Barret Robbins was from the Raiders bus Saturday. The attentions of the room were elsewhere at that point.

The commercials provided modest relief throughout the afternoon. I didn’t see anything too great, though there seems to be hope for the spring movie season, as far as I can tell. A halftime show calling for America to find its femininity (“Man! I Feel Like a Woman” and “I’m Just a Girl”) just plain lost me. Thankfully, Sting pulled it together in the end.

All things considered, it was just a disappointing afternoon. If there was one moment that stands out, it would be Jerry Rice’s 48-yard touchdown reception in the fourth quarter which pulled the Raiders back into the game, 34-21. After a 90-catch season, Rice more than proved that there is a place for 40-year-olds in the NFL. It was certainly a fine parting shot for one of the greatest to ever play the game, even if he comes back for a 19th season.

But my congratulations to Tampa Bay, who proved that defense does win championships and men who resemble evil dolls can coach football. The Bucs’ domination of the Raiders brought back so many memories of the mediocre Super Bowls of my childhood, I was left searching for fulfillment after the great game I was promised. Thankfully I wasn’t left searching for refreshments. Same time next year, ladies?