It’s good to be king. Since the end of the NFL’s regular season I have been waiting for what’s owed to me as champion of my fantasy football league — namely a keg of B-minus beer (Bud Light).

From the moment I woke up on Super Bowl Sunday I had my game face on, focused on the task at hand. Some people wait their whole lives and don’t win their fantasy leagues. I wasn’t going to let this day pass without drunken debauchery.

10:05 a.m. — Dragged myself out of bed in anticipation of the big game and to answer Nature’s call.

11:00 a.m. — Shower time. Sorry ladies, no details.

2:01 p.m. — Walked the aisles at the supermarket. The chip aisle was devastated but the keg cups were still in stock. Every checkout stand was open — the Super Bowl is bigger than Thanksgiving and Christmas!

2:23 p.m. — Arrived as the guest of honor at the party. Greeted with my ceremonial Burger King crown and by the tapping of the keg.

3:10 p.m. — Does paying millions of dollars for an O.J. ad really make people run to the store to buy it? “It has vitamin C? No way! I better go get some right now.”

3:17 p.m. — Beyonce sings “The Star Spangled Banner.” Looks and talent, her beauty and voice brought a tear to my eye. Seriously, what a woman.

3:25 p.m. — Rodney Peete was one of Carolina’s coin toss captains? That’s when I knew the Panthers were in trouble; I almost bet the house on the Pats.

4:37 p.m. — Is anyone ever going to score?

4:44 p.m. — Touchdown! Touchdown! The sky is falling, hell is freezing over, touchdown!

5:19 p.m. — Halftime. The score was 14-10 Patriots.

5:33 p.m. — Justin Timberlake steals the show — and a piece of Janet Jackson’s clothing. One booby’s worth!

5:47 p.m. — The second half began, only to be momentarily abandoned for keg stands. With my feet held high in the air I took 13 gulps — not bad for a 125 pounder.

7:26 p.m. — Vinatieri’s kick in the closing seconds was good. The wrestling match between my friend and I begins. After a seesaw battle I was lifted over a shoulder. Desperately holding on to a headlock, I heard a girl yell.

“Don’t break anything,” she said. The next thing I know I’m going down hard and smashing through a glass coffee table. I had visions of the villain dying at the end of “Ghost,” with a huge piece of glass through his belly. I only received cuts and bruises on my back.

I love the Super Bowl.

Contact Michael Young at [email protected]