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Tuesday, January 24, 2012
The Big Game
[What with all the foofaurauw in circulation about the upcoming SuperBowl "rematch" between the Patriots and the Giants, and the rule changes made concerning overtime play, I thought I might toss in a bit of whimsy.]
"And here they come, for an unbelievable fifth overtime period in this unprecedented clash of NFL superpowers." The announcer shook his head wonderingly. "Never before have two teams in this contest been so perfectly, evenly matched. Do you think the rules committee will reconsider the overtime rules after this game, Troy?"
The color analyst grinned lopsidedly. "It's possible, Joe. We've seen the equivalent of two SuperBowls already today, and we're no nearer a conclusion than we were after the initial coin flip. No one expected anything like this. No one could have predicted it. But after exchanging field goals on their respective first possessions in the first overtime, the defenses on both sides have taken complete command of the game."
"They look pretty tired, don't they?"
The color analyst smirked. "Wouldn't you be, after playing two complete games against the best team in the league? Excuse me: against the other best team in the league! What I've been wondering is what the coaches had to say to the referee that delayed the start of this period for seventeen minutes."
"Well, whatever it was, the teams are back on the field, the Patriots have lined up for the kickoff, and we're about to resume this incredible contest!"
Five overtimes weren't to be the only unprecedented feature of SuperBowl XLVI.
With twenty seconds remaining in the period, the referee halted the game clock and summoned the two head coaches to the fifty yard line. Coincidentally, that was where the ball was placed. It had been returned there upon the opening kickoff, in a strangely peaceable play. Since then, the two sides had alternated four-knee possessions without a break.
"Gentlemen," the referee rumbled, "don't you think you're being a little obvious?"
The head coach of the Giants nodded. "That was our intention, Ref." He glanced at the Patriots' head coach, who shrugged and added his own nod.
"Exactly how long," the referee said, "am I supposed to let this go on?"
"That," the Patriots' coach said, "is entirely up to you."
"The league will have your ears for trophies. Both of your ears."
The Patriots' coach's face turned dark. Before he could expostulate, the Giants' coach held up a placating hand.
"Ref," he said in his lowest register, "we've got young men out there who've played a hundred twenty minutes of football --"
"A hundred thirty-five."
The Giants' coach shook his head. "A hundred twenty minutes, of the highest caliber ever seen. Each side has had to carry four players off the field on stretchers. These boys are risking their lives, their livelihoods, and their futures in the league -- and for what? To see who'll make the first fatigue-induced fatal mistake? To see who'll be first to die on an NFL field, before live TV cameras?" He shook his head again. "Not gonna happen to any of my boys, Ref."
"Or mine," growled the Patriots' coach.
The referee stood dumbfounded. "So neither of you wants the Lombardi trophy?"
"Not that badly," the Giants' coach said.
They stood there in silence for a long moment. At last the referee said, "Give me a minute to see what I can work out." He turned toward the stands, turned on his mike, said "Officials' time out. Booth review," and walked off the field.
"Amazing. Incredible. Unbelievable." The commentator threw up his hands, nearly hitting the color analyst in the face. "I've run out of adjectives."
"It had to happen eventually, Joe," the color analyst said. "The whole thrust of league arrangements has been to promote parity. Ever more even competition among ever more teams. This is just the logical result."
"So who's the champion, then?" The commentator waved at the field below them, where the teams and their coaches were exchanging handshakes, backslaps, and words of praise.
The color analyst regarded the tableau, thought for a moment about the epic contest they'd witnessed and the way it had ended, and smiled. The head coaches had walked off the field arm in arm, with not a glance from either at the Lombardi trophy conspicuous on its display pedestal on the sideline.
"I'd say, both of them."
Comments
Bagh! NO! The best thing in life is to crush your enemies, to see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of their women! There is no participation trophy in the NFL! Win at all costs! Only that matters and nothing else!
Oh, wait…
This would actually be kind of a cool story, although watching four periods of OT without one team scoring might get a little boring. Possibly like watching paint dry or reading an unabridged Dickens novel.
Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 01/24/2012 at 12:02 PMAs long as the current trends are allowed to continue, your senario may not be all that far off. And being we are looking at the 21st century version of the Romans “bread and circuses”, why not add the that final element into the decadent mix…
The refs, after a briefer than expected time-out, returned to the field, and called both coaches to the center.
“Gentlemen, we have been in contact with the Commissioner..and he has advised us that because our initial game plan did not work, or perhaps worked too well, we need to implement “Plan-B”.”
The head coach of the Giants looked at his compatriot with one raised eye-brow, thinking to himself. “What in God’s Green Earth are these bast***s up to now?”
“You will”, the head ref continued, “remove your players from the field. And we need to see the Captain of each of your cheerleading squads…”
The resulting cat-fight, replete with more wardrobe malfunctions, hair pulling, gut punching, screams and scratches, produced the highest numbers ever recorded for a Super Bowl. It was decided that the Giant’s “won”, as their cheerleader, Mandy St.Germaine, was the last one standing, while her antagonist, Buffy Thompkins, had to be “helped off the field” by her fellow squad members. St. Germaine was “awarded” 1 point for “the win”, and the Giants won by it’s addition to their score.
By next season, ALL NFL teams had “cheerleading squads” who not only were appealing to the eye, but could individually bench press 250 lbs with ease. They were all, to a woman, holders of at least one black belt.
“Sudden death” in football took on a whole new meaning.
Posted by Guy S. on 01/24/2012 at 12:27 PMI, for one plan to carry the riot all the way to St. Sofia’s should the emperor Constantine XI fail to allow the followers of the blue team to share his box. Not only that, but I refuse to man any of the city’s walls in the company of followers of the green team. For all I care the Ottomans can sack the city if we blues do not prevail.
Posted by ΛΕΟΝΙΔΑΣ on 01/24/2012 at 06:43 PMNFL Commissioner-elect Harrison Bergeron no doubt approves.
Posted by CGHill on 01/24/2012 at 11:00 PM
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