Hey everybody, I just got back from the future!

No, it wasn’t what you would expect. No jet packs, flying cars, or robots or any of the other awesome things from EPCOT Center.

I could be bitter, but I’m not. Because in all fairness, I didn’t travel that far: Only to January 14, 2011. It may have been only a few months, but do I have great news for you—historic news. Something we never thought would happen … happened. The Lions won the Superbowl!

It began one cloudy afternoon when I was hanging out in the Summit Place Mall parking lot. I had planned on shopping but to my unhappy surprise, the short falls of “Reaganomics” finally caught up. The mall now stands abandoned.

I sat in my car, staring off into the abandoned movie theatre, thinking about all the great Jonathan Taylor Thomas films of the ’90s.

I noticed off in the distance, a Volvo 240 with some weird stuff on the back. Examining further, I found the car unlocked and the keys sitting on the seat.

A joyride through the parking lot wouldn’t hurt. Speeding up I hit 57 miles per hour. I felt a jolt and saw a bright flash of light.

On the other end of this flash, I regained my awareness and stopped the car, believing I maybe had a stroke from eating at the Old Country Buffet across the street. Then I noticed the chill of winter.

There was a trail of flame, ignited on the asphalt behind me. Suddenly it snapped into mind.The crap on the back of the car, the speedometer, abandoned mall parking lot, trail of flame, the feeling I had ascended—I must have traveled in time, just like in that movie, “Quantum Leap!”

Somewhere in time

I seemed to be in a dystopian future. Desolation. Petty crime being committed right in front of my eyes in broad daylight. Then I remembered it was Pontiac, so it could be two weeks, could be 20 years.

I cautiously drove around. I tuned into sports talk radio to detach my brain from all that was on my mind.

There was a buzz bursting through the airwaves. Every caller was jubilant. Even the staged cynicism of the host had morphed into even-handed ambivalence. They were speaking the unspeakable. They were talking of the NFC North Division Champion Detroit Lions.

With a record of 14-2, the Lions were working on the greatest turn around in sports history. It was the off week before the Superbowl and yes-—THE LIONS WERE IN THE SUPERBOWL.

I then realized I could just check my phone to find out what year it was. To my shock it was only 2011.

There was so much I wanted to find out about myself. Had I finally graduated? Had I gained weight? Was I still as stunningly handsome? What chick was I currently “smoothing over?” You know, the important stuff. But I knew my best bet was to stay inconspicuous.

Kyle & Leopold

I purchased a fake mustache and blonde wig and I checked into a cheap hotel.

I blended into the crowd. Talking to folks and getting perspective on this surprise Superbowl contender.

People were telling me this was the greatest time in their lives. Everyone was smiling.

Out of a job? Who cares? The Lions are in the Superbowl.

Your child has brain cancer? Who cares? The Lions are in the Superbowl!

Street musicians were playing the Lions’ fight song. Harmonies of “FORWARD DOWN THE FIELD, THE LIONS TEAM, THEY WILL NOT YIELD!” cascaded from Royal Oak to Pontiac, back down to Detroit, on every street corner.

It could’ve been a scene from “It’s A Wonderful Life” but with fight songs instead of Christmas carols. People in Lions paraphernalia skipped down the streets, high-fiving each other. It could’ve been a montage from the hit 1989 film “Major League.”

Doctor Who the hell

The night before, I didn’t sleep. How could I? How dare I!? Any Lions fan who waited through years of agony wasn’t being true if they dared disrespect the levity of the Lions accomplishments by sleeping.

Unfortunately due to having to remain anonymous for the sake of the butterfly effect, I could not celebrate with my friends, like I imagined for years. Using my fake ID, I went to a local bar.

My new name: Rick Dwyer. Short, snappy and fitting of my mustache.

I gathered with other folks, who I’m sure weren’t time-travelers like myself but who also were folks who seemed to have no one else at the moment, except the Lions. Sports may not be largely important but it will give a city temporary relief and bring the loneliest souls, and the most diverse, common ground to bond with.

All nerves, all that was pensive, soon washed away with a Jahvid Best 67-yard break away touchdown. A Kyle Vanden Bosch forced fumble, picked up and returned all the way by Amari Spievey. A team full of rookies was dominating the veteran favorite Baltimore Ravens.

Soon the underdog Lions were about to uncork Detroit like the champagne bottles iced down in their locker room. The game wasn’t even in contention. Our Detroit Lions, after 53 years, had won the championship, 31-12.

People paraded into the street all around, despite the cutting 20 mph windchill. Everyone was a friend to someone. Not a person went without embrace as drunken ecstasy prevailed. Detroit was ready to throw a party that had waited six decades.

Excellent adventure

I knew I would have to stick around for the parade despite my restlessness to either greet my future self, or get back to September 2010.

Unfortunately I was kind of forced to leave the next morning. Uhhh … you know that whole Uranium enrichment thing going on in Iran?

Well, they were further along than we all feared and… maybe all the news isn’t so great like I first exclaimed.

I won’t spoil that surprise for you. But I have spoiled that yes, through time travel, I know the Detroit Lions will win the Superbowl this season.

But next time someone jokes “If the Lions actually won the Superbowl, the world would end!” don’t laugh uncomfortably at that generic humor, call the FBI. Just making a suggestion.