I told my dad I had started saving some cash to go to Ireland for the game, so he asked when it was. I told him Sept 1, so he answers, "Oh, damn, I'm getting married the day before that." And that's how I found out that my dad was getting married, and that I would not be leaving the country for the first time.
I told him I would attend his wedding only if he is okay with me drinking, yelling, and generally being a nuisance in the hotel hallways the next morning at 7am when I start to prepare for the game. He enjoyed this idea.
So, I plan on getting up at 6:45am in the hotel, getting a nice hungover shower in, and then cracking open my first beer and powering through the hangover with Rolling Rock and some breakfast. Then I will wake everyone in the general area up with a stirring rendition of the Victory March, before leaving to watch the game in a clubhouse on a golf course, as my coworkers take part in a golf outing at 10:00am. It's gonna be a great 48 hours.