Nurse the Hate: Surefire Super Bowl Winners

 

One of my earliest Super Bowl memories was Super Bowl VII, that shitty game where the Redskins got their dicks kicked in by the Dolphins.  The only noteworthy play was when Garo Yepremian threw that broken play wounded duck pick six that momentarily suggested that the Redskins were back in the game.  That sequence of events provides a perfect illustration of what would happen if a normal human being was forced to play in a game with professional athletes.  Garo was a fabulous placekicker, but history will only remember him as the pencil necked pussy that couldn't throw a ball.  Life can be very cruel.

That game is memorable to me mostly because we watched it at someone else's house.  I'm assuming it was some guy that my father worked with, as I can't recall this man's name or ever seeing him again.  This was my one and only visit to that house.  It was clear that it was a guy's day out, and I was brought to the house as the host had a daughter my age.  Looking back the thought process must have been that the kids would play by themselves as the fellas knocked a few back and watched "The Big Game".

Side note.  You might not be aware of it, but the NFL drops a thousand hammers on anyone that mentions "The Super Bowl" in any advertising or commercial venture due to their trademarking the name.  They are so vindictive about it that they will send their minions out to usher great legal threats to anyone that even mentions in passing a "Super Bowl party" or "Super Bowl Sunday".  Thus, you will see a parade of ads that attempt to sidestep being dragged into court for harmlessly mentioning the obvious by saying things like "These new Kool Ranch Super Spicy Motherfucker Doritos are perfect for when you are gathering to watch...The Big Game."  My use of "The Big Game" in the previous paragraph is to insure that I am not litigated into a life of white collar slavery paying my fines to the Corporate Overlords that run the NFL.  Please sirs.  Have mercy.

So there I was ushered into a strange house to spend the afternoon with some girl my age that I had never met before.  In my neighborhood, there was only one girl close to my age, a girl named Sandy.  She was a little creep, and none of us liked her.  If I had to guess, I bet that right now she is actively protesting America's new red herring, critical race theory, at her local school board.  She is confidently driving around in a massive black SUV, convined brown people are coming to her suburb to steal her stuff, and believes climate change and the pandemic are left wing hoaxes meant to prevent her enjoyment of the life that has been rightfully provided to her thanks to her hard work in marrying her upper management corporate drone husband Jim.  Sandy was not "my kind of people".  Hence, I didn't spend a lot of time with the ladies in the early 1970s, despite my dapper Prince Valient haircut that made me look like a member of Herman's Hermits.

The way I recall it was I was given a brief introduction to this girl, and we were left to our own devices.  There was a play room that had a bunch of shit in it I could care less about.  I was pretty focused on my Evel Knevil stunt cycle and my Hot Wheels at this point and as far as I was concerned, her toys were a bunch of crap. This was when she suggested we go to their top floor to "the gym".  

To those of you that weren't around in the early 1970s, people didn't have "gyms".  There was usually one kid who had a much older lunkhead brother that might have "a weight set".  These were always the same.  They were flimsy straight bars that allowed you to put on plastic covered weights that were held onto the bar with unreliable clamps.  It was exceedingly rare to see one of these weights sets in use, and typically it gathered dust in people's moldy basements.  Occasionally the one lunkhead brother in the neighborhood, the one that smoked cigarettes and had a Plymouth Duster, would put on a show in his garage by bench pressing while wearing a cutoff t-shirt while listening to Deep Purple.  That's what home gyms were in the 1970s.

This gym seemed legit.  It was a room in their attic that had a padded floor, medicine balls like in the 1920s, and some small dumb bells.  As I didn't know what to do with a medicine ball or how or why to lift weights, this wasn't exactly a vortex of fun.  This was when the girl recommended we put on some boxing gloves and spar.  There were only two gloves so she recommended I get the left and she get the right.  In retrospect, I wish I knew about the concept of "dominant hands".  

I think I told this story before on this blog, but what happened was she said "OK, let's spar".  I had never boxed before.  She must have been one of those daughters that had a father that wished he had a son, because she came in like a well-trained Tommy "Hit Man" Hearns and connected with a jab to my nose within two seconds.  It was like, "Let's go!" and "BAM!" that quick.  I had a flash of white, my eyes reflexively teared, and my nose started to bleed.  I then had to endure the shame of going downstairs to have my bleeding nose tended to while wiping away tears as the father razzed my Dad because his beaming daughter had kicked my ass.  This was not an ideal way to enjoy "The Big Game".

I have since eased back on my Super Bowl Sunday activities, and now turn it into an orgy of gambling and decadence.  Generally, I have a firm opinion on the outcome by the time the game rolls around after sticking to my mandate of avoiding all sports pages and ESPN for the two weeks leading up to kickoff.  With nothing to talk about for two weeks, the 24 hour Sports Networks need something to fill that time, so they will be tirelessly constructing narratives.  These are usually siren songs that will leave you dashed on the rocks.  Beware sailors.

The game this year is a wilderness of mirrors.  The Bengals have been outplayed statistically in all three of their playoff games, and even the eye test suggest they are lucky as shit to be in this game.  Yet, they are on one of those Eli Manning NY Giants runs that make them feel like a team that can't lose right now.  Still, it's tough to get outplayed and go 4-0 against four quality opponents.  They seem hopelessly outmatched on the offensive line on both sides, and this usually determines outcomes.  The Rams seem like an obvious pick.

Yet, let's take a look at the Rams.  They lost a must win game vs San Francisco to close the season, pasted an out-of-gas Cardinal team, and then tried to give away both of their successive games to Tampa and SF.  People talk about this team like they are a juggernaut, but they are the fourth seed for fuck's sake.  If this team is such a monster, why did they fall to the #4 seed?  They are missing Robert Woods, their tight end is broken, their starting RB is on a flimsy achilles, and Matt Stafford has NEVER won a big game.   

It feels like to me that Stafford is just looking for a way to lose.  That gift interception that the SF defensive back incredibly dropped in the NFC Title game should have done it.  Compare the situation both QBs in this game are in.  Stafford is in the biggest game of his life.  If he wins, he probably goes to the Hall of Fame, the Super Bowl crown combined with his pass happy era stats create a narrative of "He was great but on the Lions.  Once he got to a real franchise he took them right to the Championship.".  If he loses, he has lost yet another Playoff game, and the narrative becomes "Yeah Stafford put up good stats, but he's just a different version of Kirk Cousins.  He can't win the big one.  He's no Hall of Famer."  The Rams are built to win right fucking now.  They are the 1997 Florida Marlins.  If the Rams lose, Stafford's the one they'll blame.  No pressure Matt.  It's just your entire legacy on the line.  Just go out and have fun. 

Let's counter that with Joe Burrow.  That guy can't lose a big game.  He loves playing football and has that rarified air of a guy that will win the game no matter the situation like Joe Montana.  He's out there playing with house money.  He's not supposed to even be here.  When LSU was in the NCAA Championship he went out and destroyed.  I have no intent on betting against the final outcome of a game in which he is playing QB, no matter how dodgy his team looks.  He beat KC twice in a month this year and got sacked 117 times.  You think he's worried about the Rams?   I bet he slept like a baby last night.

That being said, I can't bet the Bengals either.  This is such a high variance game.  It could be Rams 31-13.  It could also be Bengals 24-21 OT.  The Rams have advantages all over the place.  That's why I am going to bet a bunch of non-correlated bets to limit my exposure on an unmitigated disaster.  It feels to me that the Rams will win first downs as that is a stat they won all playoffs and most season long.  Rams more first down than Bengals -140.  Boy genius Sean McVeigh went out of his way to say he was running a three back committee.  If you can't believe a head coach during Super Bowl press week, who can you trust?  That to me says Cam Akers is getting a ton of carries.  The Bengals rushing defense stinks.  Cam Akers over 63 yards.  Cam Akers over 13 yards longest carry.  Joe Burrow doesn't run the ball very often.  However, this is a game for all the marbles.  He doesn't seem to mind being hit, which seems like something somebody should check on him, but I think he will take off if he sees a chance at a key first down.  You remember that scramble he made late in the game versus Kansas City?  Joe Burrow longest run over 8 yards.  The Bengals used their kicker three times more often in the back half of the season than the first.  This is a game on the biggest stage.  That dope Bengal coach Taylor will be tight.  I bet he takes points when he can get them, and isn't worried about running his red hot kicker out there for a long field goal.  Longest field goal OVER 47 yards.  I liked an MVP bet on Aaron Donald at 16-1, but that dropped way down to 12-1.  Think of the game narrative.  Stafford plays tight and throws a couple INTs.  Bengals hang tough but come up short.  Burrow, as he has all season, takes a bunch of sacks.  If Aaron Donald, the #1 defensive lineman for winning his matchups, gets a strip sack or forces a fumble, he will be the guy by default.  A running back hasn't won MVP since Terrell Davis.  If you like the Rams to win a low scoring game, Aaron Donald could get MVP as long as Cooper Kupp doesn't score two TDs.  They would give it to Kupp then as a season achievement award more than anything.  A Kupp/Donald MVP combo is a good longshot hedge if you like the Rams but not Stafford.  Just to diversify, how about Bengals on the money line. 

This season has been crazy.  I don't know how the game will turn out, but I know one thing for sure.  A little girl isn't going to punch me in the nose.