That long sigh you heard last night somewhere around 11:30 Eastern? That contented, drawn-out, happy outflow of breath coming from somewhere in the middle of the country?
That was the city of Denver. Sated, throat-sore from all the yelling, happily leaning back into their collective couches, smiles permanently implanted on their faces.
That acrid smell?
Coming from the same place?
That was a mix of (legal) weed and tear gas, as seven or eight drunken delirious Broncos fans get out of hand and Denver’s crazy over-the-top police force responds with a crazy over-the-top show of force, like always. It’s a shame that such a great city has such an awful police force. But whatever, tonight we are winners and not even the PD cannot get in the way of that.
I open twitter and it is full of non-related stuff. Hey world, the Denver Broncos just won the Super Bowl!! All tweets should be about this.
— geoff hanna (@geoffhanna) February 8, 2016
That petulant, over-confident, whiny
lack of sportsmanship
you may have noticed?
That was Cam Newton, failing to answer questions and then sulking out of his post-game presser. I don’t wish the Panthers any ill, they had a great season, and it totally sucks the way the NFL – and the US as a whole – treats the Super Bowl loser. Never mind that they had to defeat great teams. Never mind that they won 17 games. All that matters is that they lost the big one. Which is just … so frustrating! I feel for you, Panthers fans. Nonetheless, that was graceless and hard to watch.
That strange series of commercials featuring
“Super Bowl Babies”?
An odd choice for the NFL, reminding us over and over that the winning city has an unusually high number of babies nine months after a Super Bowl win. A half time show featuring an angry yet sexualized dance-off between Bruno Mars and his coterie of strutting dudes and Beyonce and her posse of charging chicks, meeting in the middle; an orgasmic explosion of golden confetti at the end of the game consummating it all, and official NFL commercials telling Denver to go ahead and have sex now, you’ve won, go make some official NFL-approved babies.
Kind of weird. But hey, we won, so whatever.
That hangovery internal pounding
that is threatening to turn your head inside out?
Yeah, that was the champagne. Why do I always forget that champagne leads to hangovers? I can drink all the bourbon or beer I want and be just fine, but champagne kills me every time.
You know what, I don’t care. It was completely and thoroughly worth it.
Aaaaaaaaah. The Denver Broncos are champions again.
I have more to say about the amazing defense, and Peyton Manning, and all of that. I have even more to say about the media bias that leads to a criminal under-representation of the Broncos in the NFL Hall of Fame.
But all of that will have to wait. Hangover is in the way. That, and the happy.
My team is one of the most successful teams in the modern history of the NFL. My team. The guys who formerly couldn’t sniff a Super Bowl win. My guys. My Denver Broncos. Champions, again.
🙂 😀 🙂