When I am King #5 – Super Bowl Edition
As you may have noticed, the new year has gotten off to a slow start, blogging-wise. This lousy computing situation has much to do with that. I have images to show and stories to tell but cyber gremlins and winter doldrums have sapped my enthusiasm. We’ll recover soon but with the Big Game coming and the need to keep this space warm, I am obliged to offer up a couple of football-related changes that will happen when I assume the throne. After all, Super Bowl XLIX is coming. The New England Deflators will battle the Seattle Coffee Fiends and I will be glued to the tube…as I have been for every one of the previous XLVIII games.
I know I’m whizzing in the wind when it comes to our National Pastime. We Americans just love our gladiator sports. I must confess I also enjoy the game. I think more about the athleticism and teamwork required to play the game well…and less about the toll it takes on many of the players. I’m glad more people are paying attention to the long-term damage caused by the repeated physical abuses that the game requires.
Football is not a contact sport. Basketball is a contact sport. Two guys running full speed into each other from opposite directions make this a collision sport and our bodies are not equipped to deal with that. However, it’s easy to see how the lure of the game can overrule one’s better judgment. Players still crave the money and glory and are willing to either ignore or accept that their later years might be awful or even non-existent.
I know I won’t be King for long if I turn the game into flag football. How about this for starters? Don’t hit the head. Ever. When tackling, don’t lead with your head. I know…that’s already against the rules. How about this? Don’t butt heads with your team mates. I don’t understand why these guys think that’s a proper celebration move. Don’t slap each other in the head either. This is another celebratory antic and is also apparently conducted as a tough-guy warm-up exercise to get ready for the game. Unless you want to be known as the National Concussion League, stop banging your heads.
Finally, when I’m in charge, broadcasters will pronounce the name of the Jacksonville franchise correctly. If I have to electrically charge their chairs and shoot a few volts up their asses or activate a trap door that drops them out of sight the next time someone calls them the “Jag-WIRES,” I will.
I hope your team wins, the commercials are fun, the snacks are tasty and there are limited ‘wardrobe malfunctions’ during the halftime show.
2 Comments:
Sorry I didn't know your dad.
I would like to have asked him a few questions.
While you are King could you please do something about them allowing the leader of the team to throw the ball into the audience or in-between the hiker's feet for no other reason than make the game clock stop. That just doesn't seem fair.
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