Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
Voiceover: Keeping America safe means never sleeping, but keeping America great means never forgetting who we are, and how we got here. 'We know what really makes America great' "Good flight?" "Yeah. Fine. Y'know. Same as always." "Yeah." "The Chevrolet ad?" Fade to black. Chevrolet logo. White text against black. "No, no it's not. We always fight. And I know that's mainly my fault-" 'Well, now, c'mon-" "No, it is. It's my fault. I got myself into thinking we can never agree on anything, that we can never see eye to eye. That we've got nothing in common anymore." She lifts her head to look up at him. "But I know that's wrong. That I shouldn't assume things about you. That there's still things that can bring us together." He grins back at her. "Like Super Bowl ads?" She laughs. "I guess. But you know what I mean, really." "I know honey. And I'm sorry too. I didn't mean what I said earlier. I know you don't really hate this country." He gestures to the couch next to him. "Why don't you sit down, huh? We can watch the rest of the game together." "Yeah." "Well." "Yeah." "Ed!" Mom had appeared in the doorway. "Please! Both of you. No fighting today, please." "Fine." Voiceover: Keeping America safe means never sleeping, but keeping America great means never forgetting who we are, and what keeps us strong. "Sorry Mom." Sara turns back to the TV, to watching the war, to trying to work out which one it is. 'We know what really makes America great' Dad wipes another team from his eye. "I think we're going to be OK," he says to himself. "I think we're going to be just fine." It had always been this way, ever since she was about thirteen. Up until then it just seemed like constant warmth, as though she didn't have any childhood concept of Dad apart from him getting home from work, then her sitting on his knee, eating cookies and watching football highlights until Mom came in and scolded them both for ruining their appetites before dinner. So they didn't talk much now, barely online, never on the phone. Since her second year of school he'd never been to NYC to visit her. She came back when she could face it sometimes for birthdays, sometimes for Thanksgiving. Maybe for Christmas. But somehow always, like now, for the Super Bowl. Like football was the one thing they still had, that one thing they could still sit in the same room together for. Shouting at players, screaming at the ref, laughing at the ads. Dad is in the bathroom, and Sara has had enough of Fox and whichever war this is. She reaches over and grabs the remote from the arm of his chair, and tries to find something else to watch. The government had scrapped all the rules about how the internet worked, and for most people like her parents it had suddenly gotten a lot cheaper to get their TV through Facebook, so all she can find is Fox, Breitbart News, Family Values TV, Info Wars, The Rebel, Glenn Beck, The Voice of America, America First, The Bible Today and lots of hunting and sports channels she doesn't even recognise. It's signed in to her Dad's FB account, and the last thing she wants is to try and log in on hers before he gets back from the john. Yeah. There was no way that would end up with them keeping it civil. In her pocket her phone vibrates, purrs against her skin, reminding her it's there, making sure she's not forgotten where her real friends are, that there's a world outside, beyond Dad and his TV. She takes it out and cradles it in her hands, the dark screen fleetingly reflecting back her face before it jumps awake at her very touch, opening up to bathe her in blue light, in comfort and warmth and the familiar. For the first time since she got home she feels herself relax. And then everything changed. Suddenly there was rap music and nose rings, sneaking out of the house to see her friends and not wanting to go to church. Suddenly he was no longer this lovable bear-man that ruffled her hair and gave her candy and explained defensive plays to her, but this huge obelisk of injustice that just wanted to crush her high school life into dust. It was constant warfare every opinion she had became a battle, every decision she made a conflict. Getting away to college gave her escape, but bred resentment too This article was originally published on TheLong+Short. Read the original article. Dinner is Mom's meatloaf, with gravy and mashed potatoes. Cornbread and broccoli. Every mouthful tastes like nostalgia, and Sara can feel herself being encompassed by a bubble, this barrier of warm air and long forgotten simplicity enveloping her body, protecting her from the confusion of the world outside. "Jesus Christ Dad, these ads!" "What about them?" advertising now? Do you just hate everything about America?" "Don't joke Sara, I'm serious. There's a lot that bothers him. The state of the world. The future. All these damn wars." "We're all worried about all that, Mom." "He's worried about his health. worried about his health. Probably more than he is." "I had no idea-" "Yeah, well you know your father. Doesn't like to talk about it. Doesn't want to burden other people with his problems. Hates pity." She pauses, looks out the window into the yard. When she turns back to Sara her eyes are damp. "This is why I was so excited about you coming back. Why he was so excited! I thought it'd take his mind of all this. He was so excited to see you. You know he loves watching the game with you, Sara." "I know. I'm sorry I-" "And the ads! The Super Bowl ads! You know how much he loves watching the new ads with you. It's a stupid thing, sure, but he loves it. Talks about it all the time. It's like a tradition to him. That's why he got so upset over dinner when you got angry at his ads. It's something special he has with you, he doesn't want to lose it." Sara slips her phone into her pocket, genuine guilt. Feels like a spoiled kid. "I didn't realise. I'm sorry." Mom smiles, walks over and kisses her on the forehead. "It's OK honey. Don't feel bad. Just go. Just go sit in there with him and watch some TV. Please." It's the second down on the Falcon's 60 yard line with 30 yards to cover, and the Lions need one touchdown to equalise. Sara and her Dad are sat in the front room, working their way through a family sized pack of Oreos, when the ad break starts. Dawn. Red skies over the desert. A Chevrolet truck pulls up next to a large, trailer. Low shot next to the front tire, as a cowboy booted foot drops down from the door, disturbing dust. Cut to: internal shot of the trailer, darkness split by morning light through the opening door. The figure enters, flicks on lights. The room is full of equipment, computers. The figure takes a seat, puts on a headset, thumbs on screens. Rests their hands on two large joysticks on the desk. Voiceover: They say you need to get up pretty early to get past America's finest. But the truth is we never sleep. holy shit that chevrolet ad /fire emoji

<question>:
How does Ed feel about the Super Bowl?

<options>:
A He doesn't care for football but enjoys all of the celebration around it
B He loves the ads even more than the game
C He likes the football and the time he spends with his daughter
D It is his favorite sporting event and he would never miss a football game

<answer>:

C