Can we take the 'Super' out of this Bowl Please?

First appeared on January 28th
in The Lebanon Reporter

The beat down the Indianapolis Colts suffered in the AFC Championship came as a public service reminder to Colts fans everywhere that the New England Patriots remain evil personified. The long faces, missed opportunities and inability run, throw, catch or even stop the football seemed strangely familiar. Perhaps more maddening than the Colts performance was knowing the eternally perplexed Bill Belichick had found yet another slimy way to push NFL rules to their limit.

Colts fans found solace in the fact Belichick appeared so miserable that surely he, along with every other person who’s ever worn clothing since the dawn of time, had decided his old friend the hooded sweatshirt was in fact a bad choice. This epiphany arrived only after a torrential rainstorm swept over Gillette Stadium during the third quarter of the AFC title game. Of course a rainstorm on a January night in New England also served to prove to a national television audience that global warming is in fact real and that, after all these years, the Colts still can’t run the football.

So as the Colt equipment managers were busy collecting the stray pieces of their team’s pride from the field, you found yourself attempting to shatter the awkward silence that had consumed your viewing party by asking if anyone wanted more nachos or felt like driving the fourteen hours to Foxboro in order to crush Belichick’s kneecaps. But in the end you realized, that as a Midwesterner, violence just isn’t in your blood so you microwaved another corndog before chewing on the same question fans of 29 other professional football teams are asking themselves; “What do we do now?”

What do you do when the Super Bowl offers a completely unpalatable match-up? New England will be playing in the sixth Super Bowl of the Belichick Era while Seattle will seek to become the first team to repeat as World Champion since Belichick’s Patriots a decade ago. For most, choosing between the Seahawks and Patriots will be like choosing between a punch in the stomach and a kick to that one place your Third Grade teacher told you was very special and only for you.

This leaves the average fan conflicted. For when you’re dog is out of the fight, it’s human nature to back the scrappiest one remaining, to root for the man in the white hat to ride in swiftly on his trusty steed and overcome evil in a generically non-violent, yet oddly believable way. The problem with Super Bowl XLIX is that it will be played indoors; therefore the forecast calls for a 100% chance of no scrappy dogs or white hats.

The Hoodie and Seahawks front man Pete Carroll both arrive with unwanted baggage (see Reggie Bush, Spygate and the proper inflation of a football per NFL rules). Furthermore its widely known the Patriots torture unwanted kittens in their free time and the Seahawks are in essence the same guy who stole your girlfriend in seventh grade and then again in high school; twice. In short, these two deserve each other.

So we as fans are left to wonder if it’s in fact possible for both teams to lose the Super Bowl. And while it may seem unlikely nobody will win, it remains a hope many Americans will cling to come Super Bowl Sunday; 100% according to one unpublished and highly unscientific poll conducted minutes before writing this column.

So fear not disgruntled Colt fans for you still have time to lobby the NFL to enact a rule change that will allow each team to lose this game. It shouldn’t be all that controversial really, considering the Shield has a history of ignoring their own rules anyway.

© 2014 Eric Walker Williams

Manning is the 'Top of the Heap"

First appeared on January 30, 2014
in The Lebanon Reporter

Start spreading the news. I’m leaving today. I want to wake up in the city that doesn’t sleep and catch a train to the Super Bowl in New Jersey. Yes friends the infamous “New York” Super Bowl has finally arrived.

How fitting the forecast would be mid thirties and rain, considering the only thing worse than taking a train clogged with half-tanked businessmen in five hundred dollar arctic parkas before standing in a security line for two hours only to assume your tiny perch outside in a February rainstorm is the fact most have paid well over $3,000 for the chance to do so.

It’s been a long two weeks for Part Time Pretend Sports Columnists everywhere as storylines in New York, not unlike a meal for under $100, have proven difficult to find. They’ve done everything short of resurrecting Tim Tebow, bouncing from the Richard Sherman interview to Peyton’s legacy to the sophistication of New York to openly questioning the strong nose and masculine jaw line of Lady Liberty.

So the Mad Clapper, Seahawks coach Pete Carroll, giggle-snorts his way to the Big Apple as his Pro-Bowl corner reaffirms his position that he is in fact the greatest cornerback in our solar system. And as President Obama stood before a joint session of Congress to give his State of the Union address Tuesday night, surely even he must have realized that the Sherman interview, and ESPN’s subsequent fanning of the non-existent flames, did more in three days to galvanize the nation than he’s been able to do in the past five years.

Now we stand as an adopted nation of orange, shoulder to shoulder in our wooden barrels and Mork from Ork suspenders, our heads playing home, if only temporarily, to one of those ridiculous plastic horse-head hats that would make even Brad Pitt, dapper as he may be, look like a complete tool. Brimming with optimism, we are bolstered by the hope the Broncos will help Manning grab a second Lombardi Trophy, united in a mutual dislike for Pete Carroll.

The best Red Zone offense against the best Red Zone defense, a quarterback in the midst of the greatest season in the history of the forward pass and a notoriously loud, game-changing Twelfth Man left to scream their heads off in living rooms three thousand miles away. Yes, it would appear the only true hope Seattle has would be Chris Christie pulling a few strings to keep Manning out of the end zone.

For their part, Colts fans are left to cast a jealous eye from afar, knowing that no matter how many Super Bowls he may win as a Bronco, Peyton Manning will always be a Colt. Well at least he will be with the older generation whose attention span exceeds five minutes and realizes an appreciation for history is more than simply remembering how excellent those Pop Tarts were at breakfast.

So as ESPN beats the Manning angle to death and plays up the sophistication of New York City, its celebrities and everything it can boast that Indy could not, fear not fellow Hoosiers, let us rejoice in our forecast. No rain and a guaranteed 70 degrees. We can relax on the comfort of our own floral print couches, stuffing our faces with pork rinds, guzzling our 64 oz sodas while pausing our DVR’s to slop the hogs and open a fresh pouch of Red Man, all the while resting safe in the knowledge there’s a loaded shotgun behind the bedroom door and we hosted football’s big game long before the Big Apple. Good luck Peyton.

© 2014 Eric Walker Williams