An Overblown Pointless Spectacle

 The Super Bowl is coming up this weekend. I of course will not be watching it, because I find football tedious to begin with, and particularly so when it seems to stretch out for what feels like days. Nonetheless, it's been my tradition for some years to write my own take on the occasion, from the perspective of an unnamed reporter who keeps getting sent on odd assignments- but at least is spared from the wrath of his former editor.

Philadelphia Eagles To Face Kansas City Chiefs In Bloated, Pointless Game

Glendale, Arizona (AP). Once again, it's that time of year. No, not taxes. That would probably take less time and be more interesting. The Super Bowl is being played this week in this southwestern city, part of the greater Phoenix area. After a tumultuous season in the NFL, two teams are left in contention: the Philadelphia Eagles and the Kansas City Chiefs.

For whatever reason, the event is huge, an annual tradition of ratings numbers, big home parties,  high concept advertising, spectacle, and a halftime show that really has nothing to do with anything and tends to get ridiculed after the fact. Oh, and there's also a football game.

This reporter, however, is not a football fan. This reporter would rather have teeth pulled. However, this reporter has people who enjoy his writing, particularly in unpleasant situations, and so this reporter's editor has sent him on assignment to cover the Super Bowl, and to be as snarky as he wishes. This is a good thing, this reporter supposes, and it's a week in Phoenix, a long way from the proverbial icebox back home (editor: so cold... so cold... we're in a Donner Party situation here.) This reporter is also free from his previous editor, who at last word was still confined to St. Bedlam's Home For The Hopelessly Insane.

As mentioned, there's a lot of spectacle, not to mention speculation. Who will win? To be brutally honest- who cares? It's only a game, and a pretty pointless one at that. And what sort of shock value and wardrobe malfunctions will happen in the halftime show? Speaking of which, if this reporter was in charge of the Super Bowl, this reporter would insist on having Lewis Black do the halftime show, if only to have millions of people at home ask why that man is swearing so much.

But this reporter is not in charge. And so instead we get a halftime show featuring Rihanna, who's avoided the NFL for several years, not to mention live performing. Inevitably something will happen that people will be talking about. Perhaps it'll be lip synching. Or wardrobe malfunctions. Or outrageously dumb costumes by back up dancers. Which makes one ask the question- why do these acts need back up dancers (editor: I have no idea.) She's to be the headliner- which means she'll bring along other acts for absolutely no reason. And spend lots of time frowning at everyone.

Meanwhile, there's actual football being played (editor: unfortunately). The Philadelphia Eagles and Kansas City Chiefs are playing for the championship. Perhaps in an ideal world, they'd all come out onto the field and simultaneously break their legs, meaning they couldn't play and thus fry the brains of hundreds of millions of viewers upon realizing this would mean there can't be a Super Bowl (editor: great idea, but we don't live in an ideal world.) Much is being made of the drama of Chiefs quarterback Patrick Mahomes and his ankle injury possibly affecting his performance.

"Look, all he has to do is get through the game," NFL commissioner Roger Goodell, one of the most hated men alive, said to reporters. "That's it. If he's going to end up crippled for life after that, well, I don't give a **** anyway."

"You realize all of us just recorded your contempt for the health of one of your players, right?" this reporter noted.

Goodell looked confused. "I said what now?"

He was quickly ushered away by aides. A statement from his staff apologized and said that the commissioner had mixed his medication with expired cough syrup and vodka, and he didn't mean that.

Another part of the drama around the game is the retired (again) Tom Brady, who stepped aside (again) after his Tampa Bay Buccaneers faltered. Brady has said he'll be joining the Fox broadcasting team, but not for the Super Bowl. By this time next week he might be coming out of retirement (again) to play for the Rams (editor: apparently he hasn't heard of quitting while he's ahead).

Brady is around in Glendale at the moment, talking to anyone who'll listen. "I don't know what to do with myself. I mean, I'm divorced... probably because I kept playing football after saying I'd retire the first time. And I'm not old enough to coach yet. Football is all I have to live for, you know what I mean? Anyway, that's beside the point. Maybe Kansas City will let me sign a one day contract so I can play in one more Super Bowl. Hey, there's an idea..."

Another unwelcome presence around the pre-game festivities is a one time star of the game way back in the day who became infamous. O.J. Simpson, who got off for the murder of his ex-wife and Ron Goldman, but got tossed in jail for the Las Vegas robbery debacle involving sports memorabilia, has been out of prison since 2017 and apparently a fully free man, citing good behaviour. This reporter would dispute that, because Simpson has repeatedly threatened to kill him during previous interactions. 

Simpson was talking to a handful of people at one of the events this week, touting himself as usual. "The thing is, the NFL should just let me back in. I mean sure, they let me keep my pension, which is the only reason I'm not begging on the streets. I mean, those damned lawsuits from those mother****ers took the rest of my money. But the Juice is the best of all time, baby. The best of all ****in' time! Show some respect for the best of all time."

At this point Simpson saw this reporter. Last year Simpson had threatened this reporter in front of witnesses again, and had promptly broken his hip before he could do anything. "You! You're back here?" Simpson yelled, pointing. "You're the mother****ing ***hole who keeps tellin' people I threatened to kill you!"

"Which you have, in front of multiple witnesses," this reporter replied. 

"Shut the **** up!!!" Simpson screamed. "Shut the **** up and stop tellin' people I threatened to kill  you, mother****er, or I'm gonna ****in' kill you!!!!"

At this point, Simpson started to charge forward through the crowd, but tripped and fell. There was the sound of something snapping, and Simpson screaming. "Oh, ****!!!!! My other hip!!!!!!"

Simpson was removed by ambulance from the scene to be treated for a broken hip. He was also accompanied by police who were going to have him charged for death threats (editor: good).

Another figure present at the moment, even though his team didn't make the playoffs again, is New England Patriots coach Bill Belichick. Belichick was grumpy when talking to reporters. "What people should be talking about is the supremacy of my team. We're the ones who have been in multiple Super Bowls in the last few years. All because I sold my soul for Super Bowl wins. And yes, we've faltered a bit, but we'll be back. And when we do... I'm going to get even with every single person on my revenge list. Just you wait and see."

Alas, the Super Bowl will be happening, unless that ideal situation happens and each team member breaks their legs at the same time. But that won't happen. And so it is that this reporter will be stuck in Arizona for the next few days, watching a game that he doesn't even like, because his readers enjoy his general snarkiness (editor: think of it this way: you're not the one stuck in -30 before the windchill right now).

Well, when you put it that way... good point.

Bengals, Rams, And Yawning

It's Super Bowl weekend. I for one will be avoiding the whole thing since I find football boring to begin with, but especially so when it gets thrown in with hundreds of commercial breaks, an overblown halftime show, and a broadcast time that feels like five hundred hours. That said, it's time to have a look at the overblown nonsense through the eyes of our intrepid reporter. Whose opinions I completely agree with.

Super Bowl Weekend Descends On Los Angeles; Unlikely Teams Playing, Many Surprised

Los Angeles (AP). It comes each and every year: an overblown frenzy of feasts, gatherings of family and friends, a timespan that never seems to end, and a broadcast. Yes, it's the Super Bowl, a pointless culmination of a pointless sport that fascinates Americans each year. 

The NFL, home to future concussion sufferers and early dementia onset patients, celebrates the end of each season with a ratings busting game that goes on for hours, gets interrupted every minute and a half for more commercials, and features a halftime show that has nothing to do with much of anything at all (editor: and sometimes features wardrobe malfunctions).

This year the event is being held in Inglewood, California, at SoFi Stadium, home of the LA Rams, one of the two teams who inexplicably made it to the championship this year. The Rams have won the Super Bowl before, back in their previous home city of St. Louis. They're playing the Cincinnati Bengals, who have never won. 

This reporter, frankly, does not care (editor: nor does this editor). That said, however, this reporter's readers seem to enjoy this reporter's snarkiness about things he does not like, and so this reporter has been sent off to cover the event along with the regular sports reporters. This reporter would like to add that he is glad his previous editor is no longer employed by the paper and is in the lunatic asylum where he belongs (editor: that guy was nuts).

It's been an odd season. The favoured teams lost in the playoffs: Chiefs, Steelers, and Buccaneers. The Rams managed to squeeze their way into the final more or less by luck. The Bengals, who haven't won a playoff game since 1990, had more than their share of luck. Giants of the game- Tom Brady and Ben Roethlisberger- retired on a down note after losing the final games of their careers. To which this reporter says, good (editor: I agree). There's nothing quite like overstaying your welcome.

And so we come to the end of a bloated season and the last game. Already NBC is busy broadcasting the pre-game show. Tailgate parties have started up. The greater LA area is even more obnoxious than usual (editor: I was once in LA. Worst eighteen hours of my life).

Fans of the Buccaneers, Chiefs, Steelers, and 49ers remain dumbfounded that these two teams could have advanced past their beloved teams. "This is a ****ing travesty," Jim Hagerty, a professed Chiefs fan told this reporter this week. "There are a few certainties in life. One of 'em is that the ******* Bengals don't win playoff games. They beat our boys! They beat us! They must have been cheating! Well, they're not going to get away with it! A bunch of us are gonna rush the fiel.... um, forget I said anything."

(Editor: that sounds ominous.)

To make things even more confusing, the Rams, while playing in their home stadium, are being designated as the visiting team. It's one of those archaic rules about the home team for a Super Bowl alternating yearly between conferences. Does this mean that all of the Rams logos get hidden behind a quick coat of paint? 

Much is being made at the moment about the unlikely teams and its possible effects on ratings. Others say that it may not matter: that most people tune into the game for the glitz, the commercials, and the possibility of a wardrobe malfunction.

Roger Goodell, NFL Commissioner and future Bond villain, had this to say. "It's a feel-good story. We've got two underdog teams who were never supposed to go this far, but they have. A lot of people are going to root for them. And from my point of view, finally getting rid of that mother****er Brady was long overdue. Wait, did I say that out loud?"

This reporter, frankly, doesn't care one way or another about Tom Brady (editor: neither does this editor).

The halftime show this year features another overblown spectacle of multiple entertainers. Snoop Dogg (assuming he hasn't gotten too high and forgotten what he's supposed to do that evening) will be joining Eminem, Mary J. Blige, and Kendrick Lamar for an over the top light show of rap, hip hop, and general tediousness. At home, millions of grandparents will be wondering who those people are, and why don't they have Perry Como do this. Well, first of all, Grandpa, because he's dead, and putting a dead guy on a stage might have some entertainment value, but generally is frowned upon (editor: mind you, they've been doing that for years with Jack Nicholson at the Oscars).

Snoop Dogg met with reporters at the stadium, smoking some premium bubba kush, looking perpetually dazed. "You know, it's gonna be big, know what I'm sayin?'. It's gonna be the biggest show of the year. People will be talkin' 'bout it for years to come. Every Stupor Bowl halftime show before this won't come near what this one will be."

"Super Bowl," this reporter prompted.

"That's what I said," Snoop Dogg replied.

"No, you said Stupor Bowl."

Snoop Dogg shrugged. "Well, that's because I'm high as a kite. No problem. It's not as if it'll affect the show. It'll make it all the more mellow, know what I'm sayin'?"

"Is your use of recreational substances going to make you late for the halftime show?" this reporter asked.

Snoop Dogg laughed. "Of course not. The producers have guys with me who'll make sure I get there on time. These guys are with me twenty four seven until the big game on Monday. Though I'm sure at this point they're high from second hand smoke."

"The game is on Sunday," this reporter corrected him.

"It is? Oh, ****, I've got this thing on Sunday," Snoop Dogg lamented.

(editor: this has catastrophe written all over it.)

Elsewhere, other figures of the game have been lurking around the big show. New England Patriots and reputed Dark Lord of the Sith Bill Belichick hasn't had a good year. Not since he lost the aforementioned Tom Brady to the Buccaneers. Losing to the seemingly lowly Buffalo Bills early in the playoffs, his team got slaughtered in what's been the worst post season loss of the Belichick regime. Nevertheless, the coach has been seen around LA, skulking about, griping to anyone who'll listen to him.

"It's not fair!" he told a scattered group of reporters. "I had a deal! All I had to offer up was my soul, and I'd get Super Bowl wins forever! It was glorious. Patriots doing whatever we could to win. Even breaking the rules and cheating. Wait, wait, wait. Forget that last part. The point is we were supposed to own the Super Bowl forever! And now I can't even beat the damned Bills in the post season! Where did it all go wrong?"

"Perhaps with the whole selling your soul thing?" this reporter suggested.

"Who told you that?" Belichick snapped.

"You did. Thirty seconds ago."

"I did not!" Belichick said, storming off away from the reporters.

Elsewhere, the owner of Belichick's soul had his own remarks on the matter. "He kept trying to remortgage his own soul," Satan remarked, smelling of fire and brimstone and toting his pitchfork. "You know what happens when you remortgage your house too many times? You never climb out of that kind of debt. Same thing with your soul. At this point, his soul is only worth a buck fifty to me, but ten trillion dollars to him. It's a little thing called consequences, which I always point out to people who come to me with this sort of request is in the fine print, but nobody ever reads the fine print."

Another face of the past has been making his rounds, and an unpleasant face at that. O.J. Simpson, one time star player, occasional mediocre actor, frequent commercial pitch man, and suspect in the overblown so called 'trial of the century', as if the reporters of the time had never heard of the Nuremberg Trials, has been around. The paroled convicted criminal (unfortunately not convicted of the big crime in the so called trial of the century) has been shilling his own name for coaching a team, any team, in the NFL. 

"But they're all ****in' against the Juice," Simpson told a number of reporters. This reporter kept to the back, having had a number of negative previous interactions with the washed up ex-convict over the years (editor: for which we're very sorry). "The Juice, you know... I'm the best ****in' player in the ****in' history of the ****in' NFL! The best of all ****in' time. But the ****in' NFL talks about reputation and crimes and all that bull****. Well, I call that bull****, because it ****in' is."

Simpson shook his head. "I'd be great coachin'. I'd be real motivational! I'd remind those guys on the field what I do to people who ****in' disappoint me. That's motivation, mother****er! Do you really want me comin' after you with a ****in' knife or what?"

Reporters looked around at each other and shared much the same thought: how dumb is this guy?

"Perhaps you should reconsider your phrasing," one of the other reporters suggested.

"Don't ****in' tell me what to do!" Simpson snapped. He paused a moment, looking at the crowd, and his gaze fell upon this reporter. "You. It's you." His tone went low. Officers looking on at a distance paid more attention. "You're that ****in' mother****er who keeps tellin' people that I threatened to kill your ****in' ass! Well that's bull****, mother****er, because I never said I'd ****in' kill you!"

"You have several times," this reporter replied. "It's been recorded."

"Oh, **** that!" Simpson screamed. "And **** you for claimin' I threatened you! I'll ****in' kill you for sayin' I wanted to ****in' kill you!" At this point he moved forward off the stage as if to charge through the crowd... and then fell out of sight. There was a momentary sound of a crack. And then the sound of Simpson screaming. "My hip! My hip! My ****in' hip!"

Soon thereafter Simpson was taken to the hospital, later diagnosed with a shattered hip. Police accompanying him charged him with uttering death threats. Simpson was reported to have sworn revenge.

As for this reporter? The game, unfortunately, awaits. This reporter might well skip out on it, or sleep through it. Such is life (editor: yes, sorry, but the readers love this. And besides, you got O.J. Simpson to break his hip this time).

Cheating And Breaking Legs

It's Super Bowl weekend. Kansas City versus Tampa Bay. I will not be watching, because frankly I'd rather crawl on my bare hands and knees through broken glass and then pour lemon juice on the cuts than watch football. That said, I do like to skewer it each year. And thus said, here we go. 

 Annual pointless game about to be played; fans delirious; people grounded in reality yawn

Tampa, Florida (AP) The Super Bowl returns in this year of Covid restrictions with limited attendance in the stands. While some have suggested that the NFL should have cancelled the season entirely instead of playing it, including this reporter, that wasn't to be. This reporter, assigned to cover the tedious, pointless game that never seems to end, despite not liking it, has been in Tampa for the last few days, condemned by an editor who hates him, an editor who, it must be pointed out, is the subject of a permanent restraining order forbidding him from being in the same vicinity as this reporter.... (editor: it doesn't mean I can't make your life a living hell, you jackass!)

And so this reporter is assigned to cover an event he doesn't want to cover. This year Tom Brady is back, quarterbacking a new team, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, who have the odd distinction of playing a Super Bowl at home. Brady, who spent years cheating with his former team, the New England Patriots (editor: Tom Brady is a saint and the most honest guy in the sport! Stop degrading him!)

This reporter has been in Tampa during this most unusual year. Raymond James Stadium is the setting for the game this year, but due to Covid, the attendance is to be restricted to 25 000 fans. This in a stadium that has the potential capacity for 75 000 in attendance. But not this year, thanks to Covid. Incidentally, does Covid do requests? Because this reporter has a cranky editor who could really... (editor: oh, I hate you! I hate you so much!!!!)

The Buccaneers are playing the Kansas City Chiefs, who are looking to repeat as champions after winning last year. The game will be broadcast on CBS on Sunday, with 358 hours of pre-game coverage already underway on the network and its associated platforms. Commercials are already being lined up for maximum exposure before being unleashed on Youtube the same day, and this year's halftime show includes the Canadian singer known as The Weeknd. No, that's actually the way he spells it. At least it's not Drake. That guy's an asshole. 

Not everyone is happy about the matchup. Brady's former coach in the Patriots, Bill Belichick, has been fuming all year since the trade. Belichick, who spends his spare time these days making Tom Brady voodoo dolls and bargaining with the Prince of Darkness to give him one more Super Bowl win before he dies, is in Tampa at the moment. The Dark Lord of New England has been seen ranting to anyone who'll listen. "That insufferable ****ing ****er!!!! How dare he **** us over like this! Well he's going to get what's coming to him, believe you me!"

NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell, busy ignoring lawsuits from former players about the damage of concussions, has been busy this week reassuring fans that they have Covid preparations well set up at the stadium. "We've got trained personnel screening everyone, and enough hand sanitizer stored for ten thousand fans to use on their way in." When reminded that 25 000 people are going to be in attendance, Goodell look dumbfounded. "Um.... did I say ten thousand fans? Because I meant ten million. We're bringing in ten million people to watch this game."

Sure enough, there's a lot of interest in the game from all corners. Millions of people watch this thing for the game, for the commercials, for the halftime show. In the opinion of this reporter, they're all out of their minds for doing so, because it's the dumbest sport in the world, and this is in a world that includes golf (editor: shut up! Football and golf are great sports!). The fact that this reporters' cranky editor likes it proves the point this reporter is making.

And so for the course of the weekend, the Super Bowl will dominate everything in the world of such people. One could tell them that the world's ending, and they'll say, "not until the game's over!" One could tell them that they've won a million dollars but they have to go collect it right now, and they might say, "can't it wait until after the post game coverage is done?"

This reporter is stuck covering the event, despite the fact that there are plenty of reporters in the sports department at the paper who'd love to attend this. This reporter would point out that the sports department have all taken too many hits to the head (sports department: hey! Um, were you insulting us? What did you say? What day is this?)

What kind of game will it be? Will Brady be cheating? How will the atmosphere be in a game with a third of the fans? Will the halftime show compensate for it all? Will the game be a superspreader event for Covid? All heady questions, but all things that Goodell is avoiding talking about. Which is to be expected out of Goodell.

Barred from being anywhere in the state for the game is one of the sport's legends, who later went on to infamy. O. J. Simpson, the murder defendant in the so called Trial Of The Century, who later got convicted on other charges and did a few years in jail, was once upon a time a key player of the game. These days he's on Twitter a lot, trying to pretend he's relevant. This reporter has been threatened by him before. Simpson was barred by the League from turning up at events, but recently held a Zoom press conference from home, where he could be seen sharpening knives in his kitchen. 

"It's like this. The ****in' NFL just can't handle the ****in' Juice. They go outta their ****in' way to avoid me, like I'm a ****in' leper or somethin'. Honestly, do I have to ****in' kill someone to get their attention? Because I ****in' will, mother****ers, I ****in' will."

When this reporter, taking part in the Zoom conference, reminded Simpson that he had just incriminated himself in front of reporters, Simpson became livid. "**** you! You're that ****er who keeps tellin' people I was gonna ****in' kill you! Well I'll ****in' kill you for sayin' I'm gonna ****in' kill you, mother****er! I'm gonna **** you up, I swear on the...."

Simpson's feed went offline. It wasn't the only negative story in a week of weirdness. When last seen, Belichick was sitting cross legged on the floor of one of the stadium concourses, breaking the legs of a Tom Brady voodoo doll and muttering, "back stabbing bastard, I'll show him..."

Brady is still the central figure in all this, with speculation that at 43, time is running out. Has he overstayed his welcome? Has he put off retirement for too long? Can he get away with cheating one more time and win another Super Bowl? (editor: hey! What did I tell you about Tom Brady's integrity?) This reporter would point out that his cranky editor doesn't know the meaning of integrity.

And so it is that Super Bowl weekend has arrived. This reporter is taking all possible Covid precautions, but still expects to come down with the disease, as it appears that the NFL's Covid protocols are being carried out by one guy named Jethro who appears to have a cold and keeps sneezing into his hands (editor: you deserve to die of Covid!)

This reporter would like to say, in closing, that his cranky editor is as much of an asshole as Drake is.

The Annual Overblown Waste Of Time

The Super Bowl is this weekend. I will not be watching, as I would rather crawl on my hands and knees through a mile of broken glass. But it is my tradition to poke fun at the event regardless. And so here we are...

Super Bowl LIII about to be unleashed; Patriots Swindle Their Way Into Game Again

Atlanta (AP) It happens every year this time of year. The bloated, tedious, inane sporting league otherwise known as the National Football League holds its over the top championship game, the Super Bowl. A broadcasting event known for over the top theatrics in a half time show, endless commercials, and a tendency to take hours longer than it should, the Super Bowl mysteriously brings in big ratings each year while boring the hell out of anyone with a working brain and/ or good taste.

This reporter, condemned for the rest of his career to take assignments from a cranky editor who hates him (editor: for good reason! So shut up!) has come to Atlanta, which is hosting the big game for the third time this year at the Mercedes-Benz Stadium. A side note: corporate branding rights are tacky (editor: they are not! Now shut up or I’ll have your columns branded with the Tombstone Funeral Homes name!) A week long of celebrations lead up to the game, with tailgate parties and Super Bowl themed decorations everywhere to be seen, while this reporter wishes he had an ocean between himself and this spot (editor: shut up or I’m dropping you in the ocean). This year is particularly controversial, a common theme for recent Super Bowls.

The New England Patriots, who keep making regular appearances in this event despite allegations of cheating and dirty tricks, are led by fading quarterback Tom Brady and Machiavellian dark lord coach Bill Belichick. The Los Angeles Rams, formerly of St. Louis before moving west for the 2016 season, come into the big game under a stormcloud of controversy after the NFC final against the New Orlean Saints. It was a final particularly plagued by an incompetent no-call on a pass interference by an official. For many fans it might be impossible to pick a team this time out. Outside of New England, the Patriots are widely despised, while the Rams combine the elements of being a team that pulls up stakes and alienates their fans on the one hand, with the controversy of the NFC final on the other, making them quite unsympathetic.

NFL commissioner Roger Goodell, often the target of much scorn from the public and from pundits over how he handles the League, his inability to deal with the issue of players kneeling for the anthem in any meaningful way, and many other reasons. In the wake of the no-call controversy, the calls for Goodell to resign have carried on from many quarters. Goodell has been visible this week around Atlanta, but refuses to take questions from reporters. When cornered by several, including this reporter, his response to a query on his tenure met with a short two word response that cannot be reprinted in papers, but ended with the word you. (editor: well that much I get! I’d be inclined to say **** you if I was face to face with you, and one of these days, I’ll get past that restraining order and end you!)

On a side note, this reporter would like to point out that his cranky editor, forbidden by legal restraining order from being in the same vicinity as him, and who must thus only communicate by email, has once again threatened the life of this reporter. It would be advisable of the authorities to take this into consideration. And this reporter would like to suggest to his publisher that perhaps it might be ideal to put the cranky editor out to pasture once and for all (editor: shut up! I’m not a cow!)

Patriots owner Robert Kraft, a close friend of the individual currently squatting in the Oval Office, is pleased by his team’s return to the big game when he spoke with reporters. “Everything came together just like we planned. We cheated and swindled and stacked the deck and got all our cards in place and here we are, about to cheat our way through the big game. Wait a minute… did I say that out loud or just think it?”

Tom Brady, the longtime Patriots quarterback who has been described as a real American hero by Patriots fans (note to the fans: an athlete is not a hero. A soldier, a cop, a teacher, a doctor, a nurse… anyone who works to put food on the table and keep a roof over the head of their family- that’s a hero) is returning once again. At 41, he’s fading as a talent, dismissive of any concerns that he might just be human after all, and ignoring the past controversies and scandals that have dogged his team (editor: shut up! Brady still has it in him! And he’s as honest as the day is long!). “Can’t we get past Deflategate?” he asked at a press conference earlier this week. “I mean, in two years when we’re right back here again, you’ll all be asking questions about Goffgate.”

A reference to Rams quarterback Jared Goff? “What’s Goffgate?” this reporter asked.

“It’s about the broken leg we’re gonna give Goff on Sunday in the first five minutes of the game,” Brady said before realizing he was saying it. “Wait a minute, wait a minute. I didn’t say that, okay? I never said it and you can’t prove it and it never happened!”

“You just said it on live television,” another reporter pointed out.

“I did not!” Brady protested, clapping his hands on his ears and yelling, “la la la la la la” before handlers took him out of the room.

Bill Belichick, the head coach of the Patriots and occasionally mistaken for the Emperor from Star Wars, has been elusive for answers from reporters. It has been said that witnesses have seen him tampering with the Gatorade supply for the Rams, conducting blood sacrifices at midnight to favour his team, and signing a deal with the Prince of Darkness to ensure the Patriots would prevail (editor: whatever it takes to win! And I’ve got a grand bet on the Patriots to take it all!). Regardless of glares of death coming from the head coach and words of rage coming from the cranky editor (editor: shut up!), this reporter sought another opinion or two. Reached for comment from his offices in the Seventh Circle Of Hell, Satan would not confirm or deny the allegations. “The truth is I don’t even like football. Now golf, that’s my sport.”

His counterpart in Heaven has a different point of view. God, otherwise known as The Almighty, and sometimes known as the Big Guy, is often invoked by athletes to favour them with a victory. It seems quite common with football. When reached for comment, God shrugged. “You know, if I let everyone who invoked my name win a game, there would never be a defeat. And sometimes losing a game is about building character. It’s not just how you win that counts, it’s about losing gracefully. And by extension, I don’t even like football. I find it very silly. Oh, by the way, the Patriots are cheats, cheats, and big time cheats, and they’d better watch it or I’ll forego my usual non interference status quo and go all Old Testament on them.”

From the sublime to the vile. Another face that’s been seen in Atlanta this week is a one time legend who ended up becoming infamous for all the wrong reasons. Former football star and inept actor O.J. Simpson, who was the central figure in what was often described as the Trial of the Century (as if no one had ever heard of the Nuremberg Trials), has once again turned up at the scene of a Super Bowl in the wake of his release from prison on theft convictions. The faded old player isn’t what he once was on the field, not even what he was during the murder trial that captivated the country. Nor is he invited to the game in any capacity by the NFL. A surprising gesture, given that the NFL often turns a blind eye to domestic violence and other crimes committed by their athletes.

This reporter, having had been the subject of previous hostility from The Juice, stayed at a distance while he was speaking with a crowd of reporters- a crowd he had sought out, as opposed to being sought out by them. “It’s like this,” Simpson promised. “You could just have The Juice run the big ****ing show. Name me the ****ing NFL commissioner already. It would be ****ing epic. Can you imagine, with my ****ing history and my ****ing prestige how ****ing big it would be? Or you can just keep going with that ****ing ****er Goodell. **** Goodell! Yeah! I went there! **** that ****er!”

Simpson smiled, paused for a moment before continuing. “So that’s what the **** I’m here for. I want Goodell overthrown, and I want the **** back into the game, running the whole ****ing thing. That’s called respect, baby, that’s what The Juice deserves!” He paused again, his eyes falling upon this reporter, and his expression becoming hostile. “You! It’s you!” he said, his voice rising.

This reporter shrugged. “Yes, it’s me. And it’s unfortunately you.” After all, The Juice was at this point twice the age of this reporter, with bad knees and fading eye sight.

“Shut the **** up, mother****er!” Simpson yelled. “You kept writing that I was ****threatenin’ to ****in’ kill you, mother****er! Take that back! You ****ing take that the **** back, mother****er!” He started to advance through the crowd, oblivious to the sight of three cops closing in on him. This reporter was not. “You ****in’ take that back, or I swear to ****ing God I’m gonna ****in’ kill you, you mother****er!” Before Simpson could break through the crowd, the police officers intercepted him and pulled him away. This reporter, inspired by a moment of juvenile behaviour, gave Simpson the finger.

It was enough to make Simpson scream in incoherent rage. Perhaps the gesture might come back to haunt this reporter some day, perhaps not (editor: The Juice won’t have the opportunity to end you, you bastard… that’s going to be mine and mine alone to do.)

This reporter would like to note that once again, he has been threatened by a cranky editor who should be tossed into a padded room for the rest of his life. (editor: I hate you! Oh, I hate you! You are so dead! Do you get that? You’re a dead man!)

This reporter will close off by saying that he has heard that before.