Sunday, February 6, 2005

Football! The clash of titans! The battle of brobdingnagians! The war of newts! Helmeted warriors clatter and roar upon the gridiron, struggling and clawing for supremacy and dominance, plunging forwards towards victory as fat man crashes after fat man in the most dangerous game!

"Ooo, three yards," says Fafnir.

Yeeeees, three glorious yards! That mighty conquest belongs to that fat man and that fat man alone, and when he is pounded into submission by bigger, fatter men he will be filled with the magnificence of the competitive spirit, the knowledge that that patch of astroturf belongs, for this moment, to him! He is lord of the spongy plasticky earth!

"Whup, back four yards," says Fafnir.

And the day belongs to the other fatties! For almost a full second and a half, their reign over that egg-shaped leather ball is supreme and uncontestable! They surge over those twelve feet like an ocean wave! Look at them go! What other game could offer such grand spectacle, such majestic thrill, such sheer piercing insight into the raging heart of man! Other than baseball! Or sumo! Or curling or golf!

"We're runnin outta wings," says Fafnir.

What excitement lies next in store in this contest of giants, this challenge of goliaths, this tournament of titans! The Pepsico-Raytheon halftime show and its salute to America's cheesemakers, that's what, along with a loving tribute to the boys who took the beaches of Grenada back in the Big Skirmish of '83. Truly they were the Adequate Generation. They fought for the great values of this country, as enshrined in this halftime show. Values like Pepsico and Raytheon - and football. And football!


posted by Giblets at 8:48 PM



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