Finding Mudville: A Rozellian Scribe classic
What a great tale the Rozellian Scribes have crafted for Super Bowl XLVIII.
Good vs. Evil.
On one side, The Good Guys. The Denver Broncos.
Peyton Manning, the ultimate man in the white hat. John Wayne in shoulder pads. Gary Cooper with a shotgun arm.
Cheers and applause abound.
And then there are the Bad Guys. The Seattle Seahawks.
Pete Carroll, the evil coach – Vic Morrow from Bad News Bears, or the dude from the Mighty Ducks movie, “It’s not worth winning if you can’t win big.” The man who ruined USC Trojans football, the man ultimately responsible for Lane Kiffen leaving Tennessee and coming to Southern California – see the evil Domino Effect? He is Dick Distardly, Snidely Whiplash, Simon Bar Sinister and Boris Baronoff all wrapped into one, and given wavy blonde hair, electric blue eyes and a sparkling smile with which to disarm you.
He is evil incarnate with a football.
Richard Sherman. Darth Vader in a football helmet. Khan lining up in the nickel defense.
The old guy who lives on your street and kicks puppies. Boos and hisses rain down from the balcony.
The good of Denver where they even legalized pot against the evil of Seattle, where they filmed the Twilight movies and it always rains.
And yes, I know they also legalized pot in Seattle, but work with me here.
This is Good vs. Evil, remember?
Never before in the game of football, not since Al Davis and the old Oakland Raiders, has a Super Bowl seen such polarizing opponents, where everybody in the free world will be rooting for Peyton Manning and the Denver Broncos to pull this one out, and no one likes Seattle.
Super Bowl XLVIII has the potential to be the most watched Super Bowl in recent memory – a perfect set up when the Rozellian Scribes realized there would be no teams participating in this year’s football game located east of the Mississippi.
Two west coast teams – almost.
One team that’s almost a foreign country – Seattle.
And they’re playing in New Jersey. I didn’t see this one coming at all.
I thought the NFL would climb on board the Andrew Luck Train. I had New Orleans tabbed on the NFC side of the coin because Pete Carroll destroyed the innocence of college football and then fled to Seattle (where they sell marijuana) when the NCAA police pounded on his front door.
I thought, while the NFL offered Carroll sanctuary, they would never allow him out of the tower belfry.
I thought Carroll would become the Quasimodo of the NFL, never leaving the reach of the Rozellian Scribes who took him in and cared for him, and occasionally let him ring the church bells.
But no, the Rozellian Scribes needed a good story for this year’s Super Bowl.
It had been a while since they played the Good vs. Evil card. Not since Ray Lewis and Brian Billick brought the evil men in black, the Baltimore Ravens – the OLD Cleveland Browns and Art Modell – evil incarnate – the real Dr. Evil, to the Big Dance.
All that’s missing is Pete Carroll showing up wearing a waxed mustache and chuckling like Renfield.
And Peyton Manning, outfitted in white hat, shiny star, a glass of milk, and riding a white horse like Roy Rogers.
I say, “Job well done, boys.” You make me want to watch this game.