The Great NFL Pigskin Pick 'Em: An Ode to the Super Bowl
I started the unofficial NFL season with what I think was a crafty little poem about the NFL draft. It seemed to go over well enough that I also added a haiku to open the regular season.
I think I'm 50/50 on poetry but I know one thing for sure: I'm not a quitter!
It seems only appropriate that close out the season with some prose befitting the biggest game of the year. Let's fire up those lutes! Without further ado, I give you, An Ode to the Super Bowl.
We stand at the precipice of Super Sunday, our eager breath on hold,
the analysis is over, but the media hype is never really done.
On the field in Arizona is where the final battle will unfold.
The defending champs and their Legion of fans long had a repeat on their mind,
their will tested months ago by OTAs and training camp ‘neath the unforgiving summer sun.
Another title for the ‘Hawks and with the great teams of old they shall be forever intertwined.
What of the golden boy? The mastermind? The gold standards in the sport?
Another trophy for the minute men grows the lore of their aging dynasty.
It gives their loudest critics a concise and irrefutable retort.
One more Lombardi quiets the storm surrounding the team,
you think they win only because they cheat? That line of thought is pure fantasy.
To that I counter with what’s already in Foxboro: three sterling silver trophies that sparkle and gleam.
Predictions? I suppose I have to at this juncture,
but take my words with much salt…
I did not pick the ‘Hawks at home in the playoffs, the Pack’s spirit and my credibility they did puncture.
In fairness, there must have been divine intervention to grant three consecutive miracles, so it’s probably not all my fault.
Enough stalling, here are my thoughts on number 49:
The running backs will be key for both adversaries.
The yardage gained by New England’s back field will be a tell-tale sign
if Gronk will be free to do his end zone dances or if the ‘Hawks will have him caged like a canary.
If Beast Mode gets rumbling early, it will leave the Pats vulnerable,
they don’t get many sacks and their defensive backs will be negated.
Add to it young Wilson’s feet and the read-option could be unstoppable.
If it rains Skittles in Glendale, the Patriots will surely be dominated.
The X Factor? Perhaps the master mind’s willingness to push the rules to the point of deceit,
Linemen flanked out wide and running backs holding the point of attack?
How cunning, Josh and Bill, these merry tricks are why people insist you cheat,
but I admire their resolve. They aren’t too proud to win and they’ll do anything to get Lombardi back.
So here is my prognostication for this iteration of the big game,
first, it will be much closer than last year’s debacle in the Big Apple.
Seriously, Met Life Stadium still needs another washing after the display of shame.
I see it going like the games of recent Patriots’ vintage: the final seconds ticking away, both teams still in a death grapple.
The Seahawks rode a tough defense, a crafty QB and a series of prayers to get to this battle,
they have a brash defense that backs up their talk with physical, punishing play…
Yet I can’t shake this feeling that somehow the old guard will find their way
and the Patriots will be crowned for the fourth time, under the pressure the steely veterans will not rattle.