This is MY house!
Face it. You hate the Super Bowl party if you are a real fan.
All the people who never watch football are coming over to watch the commercials. For you, it is the last time you will get to see real NFL football for months. (If the negotiations fail, maybe years!) Your team didn't make it to the big game this year, but this is a philosophical problem that transcends all of that.
This is no time for idle talk and listening to other people talk about to which college their kids got accepted. You do not want to hear about what is in the avocado dip. You do not like the white noise of conversation when the snap count is called.
You can be polite only for so long. There should be rules about the casual football observers who show up at the party. "Sit down and shut up" does not cut it with your wife's friends.
You can say you are sick, but your boss is there, and what are you going to say tomorrow at work?
I'm not telling you what to do, but I suggest that, as a real fan, you make tactical plans. The keg and hot wings go in the basement. Spill a little beer on the floor down there on Saturday to give it a musty smell. Have the volume of the basement television turned up above the level at which conversation cannot be heard except with hearing protection. Make it hard for women in high heels to get past your kid's toys and coats on the stairs.
When your wife wonders what is happening during these preparations, tell her you are cleaning the bathrooms, and the running water and toilet-scrubbing makes it hard to hear and understand her complaints. You have to go out to get the food for the party and don't have time to clean up the beer smell.
Be creative. Use your voice. Let your inner-child have its way. Keep a vuvuzela handy at all times...
Enjoy the game...