Sports fans routinely often turn irate at the likes of Troy Aikman, Joe Buck, Tony Romo, Cris Collinsworth and the rest because they think they hate their teams.
None of them dislikes your team. No national voice cares who wins. They care if the game is compelling. Usually.
The case of Super Bowl LVI is one of those rare exceptions when the guy calling the game may actually violate this evolved reality, and care about the outcome.
"I'm excited. I'm human. I can't help myself," Collinsworth said on a recent NBC Sports conference call to preview the network's Super Bowl telecast. "I would have bought a ticket regardless to watch the game. I just happen to have the best seat in the house."
Forgive Collinsworth for his rooting interest in this particular Super Bowl.
If anyone understands the pain, sadness and frustration associated with the Cincinnati Bengals, it's Collinsworth.
He spent his eight-year NFL career with the Bengals, and played in the franchise's only two Super Bowl appearances, both losses to the San Francisco 49ers in 1981 and in '88. His final NFL game was a painful last-second defeat to Joe Montana and Jerry Rice.
For Cincinnati, this Super Bowl appearance is not everything. It's just really close.
"I don't live in Los Angeles, but I know this Super Bowl is a big story in L.A. as well," he said when I asked him what this Super Bowl appearance means to the Cincinnati.
I get it. I was born in Cincinnati, and the Bengals, and specifically his teams of that era, were my first genuine sports love, so my command of this subject borders on Trekkie-ish.
"In a few weeks or months, [L.A.] will host the Academy Awards," he said. "And then there is Grammy Awards. And they have the Lakers. And the Dodgers. There is always something."
He forget to mention the beach. And the mountains. And the beach. And Disneyland. And the beach. And Hollywood. And the beach.
"In Cincinnati, this town is lit up [for the Bengals]," Collinsworth said. "You turn on the news, and it is the only story in some way ... it's the only thing happening.
"For a Midwestern city, this is when they get the opportunity. This is the chance to be on the world stage for the first time in over 30 years. There is a buzz and an excitement, and a coming together for a city that can only happen when these moments come along.
"As happy as I am for the Bengals, I am happier for the town of Cincinnati. It really has galvanized this place."
Collinsworth grew up in Florida, but he nailed America's Midwest.
He understands that for a lot of smaller professional communities "their team" is a unifying potential point of pride, or pain. This is their chance to stick out their collective chest, and run with a New York, San Francisco, Miami, Los Angeles or America's other "A-list" cities.
Buffalo. Cleveland. Kansas City. St. Louis. Indianapolis. Oklahoma City. Portland. Cincinnati. Their team is what they got.
It's why for so many fans of the Cincinnati Bengals, those Super Bowl losses, particularly 1988, are impossible to get over.
It's worse for the players themselves.
In the fall of 2018, I asked Collinsworth if he ever got over those two Super Bowl defeats.
"Never," he said. "I'm telling you — never.
"I don't care what anyone says, you don't get over this. Somewhere, in the deep recesses of your brain, it's there. It's like when you did something that hurt someone, and you just never forget it. Or you do forget it, and then you think about it and you cringe all over again.
"I see a [Super Bowl] ring, or a call of those Super Bowls ... and there is always something to remind you of what could have been. It's why I am always really careful with that when I am around guys who have been there and not won it."
If the Bengals pull off their third consecutive upset in these playoffs and defeat the L.A. Rams on Sunday to win their first Super Bowl, that will not make up for what Collinsworth and his teammates missed.
"For those guys who get there and don't win, it's never over," he said.
For residents of Cincinnati, and Bengals fans who remember those Super Bowl losses, and countless others, they just need one.
If that does happen, it will be the rare instance when the national analyst who is calling the game may actually care who wins.
Because Cris Collinsworth is human.
