In the aftermath of the San Francisco 49ers’ NFC Championship victory, while I tried to formulate some kind of recap of the crazy game we’d just seen, I started getting peppered with one question: would we be hosting a Super Bowl party?

My first instinct: no. God no. We had some people over the year before, but that was just another Giants/Patriots Super Bowl. I’m old enough to remember watching the 49ers play in Super Bowls, but I’m not old enough to have hosted a party when the 49ers were involved. What if the game goes horribly, and I have to be civil and social and mingle and say, “Oh, we need more salsa, let me get that,” while all I want to do is sulk and ponder where it all went wrong? Then I’m the bad guy, and my friends get uncomfortable and leave either in the middle of the fourth quarter or the second the game clock hits 0:00.

KDI have a friend who’s a Titans fan, and my sister and I drove to his apartment in Davis to watch them play the Rams in Super Bowl 34. It was also my friend’s birthday two days earlier, which happened to be the same night his girlfriend broke up with him. Then the Titans suffered the most heartbreaking Super Bowl loss of all time (other than the Scott Norwood game). We had brought a bottle of champagne for after the game and had planned to stay the night at my his place, but after the game everyone cleared out in about 15 seconds. I left the unpopped champagne on my friend’s counter and we drove back to Santa Cruz that evening.

So I kind of wanted to avoid a similar scene (without the birthday or the breakup). But my wife informed me that we would be hosting a Super Bowl party unless we went to New Orleans. She even set up a Facebook event page for it and everything. A couple people asked us politely if we’d be hosting some sort of get-together, and a friend on Twitter said, “No, you aren’t going to New Orleans because you’re going to host a kickass Super Bowl party.” Or something like that.

After I wrote a post that definitely wasn’t fueled in part by #rallymimosas, I figured I’d try to apply for a Super Bowl credential. I figured I had nothing to lose, even though there was no way the “No Fun League” was going to allow a maternal basement-dweller to come within a half mile of the Superdome (unless I paid for tickets to watch Tuesday’s Media Day circus).

The next afternoon, I got a matter-of-fact email from the NFL’s events division about how I could access my credential information. Wait, what? I’d still have to shell out enough for one/third of a Kia to attend the game itself, but all the media stuff during the week was fair game. And that’s how a last-minute trip to New Orleans is born. I’m on a flight to Denver right now, and in about six hours I’ll see the circus firsthand.

So I guess the point is I won’t be hosting a Super Bowl party, and for the few who hoped we’d share our couches and television, I apologize. But the good news is we’re going to help two lucky people throw their own “kickass Super Bowl party.”

You see, the key to hosting a great party is simple. You need food. Preferably good food, not some “gameday bucket” nonsense. But with the 49ers in the game, everyone’s going to be transfixed on the television more than any Super Bowl party any of you can remember. Who wants to cook? Who wants to deal with going to some crowded grocery store? Nobody.

Amici's East Coast PizzeriaOn Friday, we’ll be giving away two 20-person pizza parties from Amici’s East Coast Pizzeria for Super Bowl Sunday.

That’s right, enough pizza and salad for you and 19 friends, family or even strangers. As Randy Moss would say, “Boom.”

We’ll have a contest-related post each day, and on Friday I’ll randomly select two winners from the comments on each post from Monday through Thursday Then those winners will be shouting, “Who’s got it better than us? Nobody!”

Speaking of that …

Question #1: What’s your go-to move when celebrating a great play?

Explanation: We all have one, whether your team is the 49ers or the USF Dons. For some, it’s the classic fist-pump. For others, it’s high-fiving whoever is near. Some people yell, “YEEEEAAAAHHHH” loud enough so the neighbors can hear (one of the coolest parts about watching important games on a block with a bunch of apartments: hearing the entire block celebrate a great play). Maybe you slam the armrest next to you with delight, stand up and stomp around while yelling “YEEEEAAAAHHHH” while pumping your fist, followed by some high fives that hurt a little.

(That last one may or may not be something I’ve been known to do.)

So let us know the way you celebrate a TD, HR, goal, etc. It could mean the difference between pushing a cart through a grocery store on Saturday or sitting back and waiting for a bunch of great (Not to mention free!) food from Amici’s…