Super Bowl weekend is upon us. I won't be watching the damned thing, of course. But I do ridicule it each year. And so it's time for this year's edition.
Super Bowl About To Unleash Hours Of Boredom
And Pointless Glitz On The World
Miami (AP)
And so it is that once again we come to that time of the year again. Super Bowl
Sunday unleashes its overblown nonsense this Sunday, February 2nd,
2020, overshadowing Groundhog Day and presenting hours and hours and endless
hours of commercials, commentary, a halftime show, and the most boring game of
the year (editor: hey! Shut up! I like
the Super Bowl!). This year’s edition is being held in the suburb city of
Miami Gardens, Florida, at Hard Rock Stadium, which has hosted the game before.
This year Fox
is broadcasting the game. The network has had its sportscasters in the area for
the last week, building up hype for the big game. Fans have been streaming into
the metropolitan area over the last few days, having tailgate parties, wearing
team insignia from across the league, causing mayhem and chaos in the bars and
beaches, and in all other ways acting like typical football fans: complete
boors (editor: hey! Football fans are
great people!).
This
reporter, cursed to have an editor who hates him, and an editor subjected to a
restraining order for multiple threats on his life over the years, has been
remotely dispatched by that editor, who really is a cranky assed (editor: shut up! Shut up or you’re going to
regret it!)… well, to put it mildly, this reporter was dispatched to cover
the event. This reporter considers that a punishment, since this reporter hates
football, hates this event in particular, and wishes that his cranky editor
would just retire already (editor: I’ll
retire after I’ve ended your snarky life!!!!). This reporter would also
like to note that these footnotes are to be deemed further threats, and that
the authorities might take steps to arrest the editor for violating the
restraining order. (editor: I hate you!
Oh, I hate you!)
Back to the
subject at hand: the game pits the Kansas City Chiefs against the San Francisco
49ers. It’s something of a shock for Patriots fans, who have been accustomed to
their team appearing in the game for the last few years. Indeed, Patriots coach
Bill Belichick, lurking around the pre-game festivities in recent days, was
dismayed that his team missed the playoffs this year. “It wasn’t supposed to be
this way, dammit!” he told reporters, visibly frustrated. “I had a deal with the
Prince of Darkness! My soul for repeat Super Bowl wins!”
The Prince
of Darkness, aka Satan, on vacation in Las Vegas (where else?) shrugged when
asked about it at one of the casino city’s golf courses. “Hey, old Bill has
leveraged what passes for his soul one too many times, and I’ll be calling in
his IOU pretty soon. Besides, I hate football. Golf is my game. Especially
because everyone who plays against me is too scared to try to beat me. Now if
you’ll excuse me, I’m kicking the **** out of Rupert Murdoch on the fifteenth
hole.”
The two
teams have never faced each other in a Super Bowl game. In fact, they have
rarely ever played against each other. San Francisco has a narrow lead in their
all time games played series, 7-6, and had a slightly better record over the
season. Fans across the nation are picking their own favourites for the game,
even if the teams involved aren’t their home teams. Betting pools have been set
up. And advertisers have been devising overblown commercials at premium prices
to get attention for their products.
Roger
Goodell, the NFL commissioner, has been seen in recent days at pre-game events,
shaking hands and looking like the cat who ate the canary. He has sparked some
controversy, however. The other night, after drinking one too many Fireballs,
Goodell let his guard down and started talking frankly. “Look, we all know this
is a pointless sport. Guys slamming into each other for six or seven hours,
opening themselves up to concussions and brain trauma and life long effects,
not that the League can ever admit that, because if we do, we’re gonna be
dealing with lawsuits for decades to
come. I’m just saying, CTE is real, and every one of our players is ****ed.” The
following morning, when Goodell was sober and dealing with a headache, he was
confronted with his own words, caught on camera. Staring at himself saying the
very same words, he shook his head. “I never
said that. You guys must have gotten some lookalike to say that.”
Of course
the halftime show is the subject of much speculation. Jennifer Lopez and
Shakira are signed up at the headliners. As usual, the concert setting for
halftime threatens to overshadow the game- this is typical given how boring
Super Bowl games usually are (editor:
shut up! The Super Bowl is not boring!). Lopez and Shakira are keeping a
tight lid on their act, not willing to let any detail leak on what they promise
will be a halftime show to remember. This reporter would point out that every
act at this event says that line of nonsense.
Some onlookers
are hoping for wardrobe malfunctions during halftime. Others, such as this
reporter, are merely hoping that in advance of the game, the coronavirus forces
the cancellation of the game, or that both teams break their legs when stepping
out onto the field and thus cancelling the game and simultaneously causing
millions of sports fan brains to short out (editor:
I’m visualizing your brain shorting out).
There are
those who are bothered by the timing of the game. The game traditionally takes
place on the first Sunday in February. This year that just happens to coincide
with Groundhog Day. That fact is bothersome to Fred Vaughn, president of the
Groundhog Day Society. “It’s not right! They’ve got football half the year!” he told reporters
outside Hard Rock Stadium. “All we have is one
day! One day to pay honour to the groundhog! And they overshadow it with
this game! It is sacrilege! Sacrilege,
I say! It is a desecration to the Groundhog God, for whom we serve! I tell you
now, there will be a terrible reckoning!
You have not known fury until you’ve seen the Groundhog God unleashed!”
Reached by
phone from Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, George Delaney, the Vice President of the
Inner Circle, the group that manages the annual Groundhog Day event in the
small town, had a different take. “We can share Mr. Vaughn’s agitation at
having the occasion overshadowed, but not his level of agitation, or his other…
eccentricities. I would like to point out that the Groundhog Day Society has a
membership of one- Mr. Vaughn himself. And I’d like to add that there’s no such
thing as a Groundhog God. And lastly, Mr. Vaughn has spent thirty seven years
of his fifty two years on this planet in one mental hospital or another.”
There has
been someone else in Miami Gardens, trying to make a spectacle of himself and
find some place on the big game’s stage. O.J. Simpson, the one time football
player, failed actor, and defendant in what some called the Trial of the Century,
has been seen out and about, talking to fans, ignoring the disdainful glare of
those who still think he beat a murder charge, and trying to be the centre of
attention. The NFL, for its part, has been going out of its way to refuse to
let him have any place in the game, given criminal convictions and the cloud of
suspicion that remains above him to this day. This reporter saw him at a
distance; there is a restraining order forbidding Simpson from being anywhere
near this reporter, given previous threats of violence against him (editor: there shouldn’t be! The Juice should
have as much right to throttle you as I should have!).
“It’s like
this,” Simpson was saying to a group of people, some of them reporters. “The
****in’ NFL doesn’t want the Juice around! But they ****in’ owe me, man! They owe me! I’m the greatest ****in’ player in the history of this ****in’ game, and
they treat me like I don’t even exist! It’s enough to make you want to ****in’ kill someone! Stab ‘em in the heart! But I’ll tell you, I’m ****in’ above that.
Because I’m a better ****in’ person than that. **** yeah! So I’m here to tell
all my fans that they need to tell the ****in’ League to make this right. They
need to tell the ****in’ League to make me Commissioner! Like I’ve been sayin’
for years!:
He paused
for a moment, looked through the crowd, and saw this reporter. “Hey! It’s you!”
His eyes took on a dark, hostile look. “It’s that ****in’ mother****er who said
I was threatenin’ to ****in’ kill him! I got some things to say to you,
mother****in’ mother****er! Don’t you go around ****in’ tellin’ people I’m
****in’ threatening to ****in’ kill you! Because if you keep sayin’ that,
mother****er, I’m gonna kill your mother****in’ ass, mother****er!” He
started charging through the crowd, only to be intercepted by three police
officers who tackled him. “Let me go!! Let me go! I’ll kill that mother****er for tellin’ people I was gonna kill that
mother****er!”
The
belligerent former player was arrested, and taken away in a police car,
screaming and cursing every step of the way. This reporter mused that he could
benefit from another twenty years behind bars, not that it was likely to
happen. This reporter also mused that his cranky editor should be locked away
too, just for good measure (editor: I’m
going to carve out your heart with a pick axe). Once again, this reporter
reminds the world that his editor is a sociopathic lunatic clearly threatening
the well being of this reporter (editor:
I hate you! Oh, I hate you so much!)
