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We’ve all heard the idea before. Muttered under breath as the fourth quarter winds down and houseguests drain the last of their beers, unpeel themselves from couches, and shuffle begrudgingly to their respective rideshares: “Y’know, they should really hold this thing on Saturday instead.”
Monday morning will be met with a blistering hangover. A double workload to pick up the slack for the sorry bastards who indulged enough to warrant a sick day.
Super Bowl Saturday. It has a nice ring to it. And this teen is going the distance to make it a reality.
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