Well, well, well… Peyton Manning finally beat someone from Florida in a big game.  He got his ring.  He got his MVP award.  He shed that #### from his back.  We're misty-eyed.

Here at Quick Slants, we are, of course, supremely excited about all this.  But not because of any personal accomplishments.  Mainly, we're just ecstatic that we won't be force-fed the same regurgitated cudd about Manning ever again!  Boo yah.

So, we've already moved on.

More to the point, it's tragic that, once again, the little guys have been overshadowed by the other, more popular Manning-esque aspects of Super Bowl XLI; the elements that made the event unique, comical, and everything in between.  In an effort to point out these overlooked Super Bowl nuances and give credit where its due, Quick Slants would like to hand out some hardware to a number deserving parties.

The Head-On “Mood-killing Commercial” Award

To the braintrusts at Snickers, who apparently thought the overwhelmingly male audience would be prompted to buy more candy bars after seeing two male auto mechanics accidentally kiss and then rip off their shirts.  Great idea.  What’s next?  Guys groping a truck?  (Oh, had that one too?  Thanks, Chevy.)  Not since the Head-On commercials have we been this taken aback. 

(For the record, we were at a small Super Bowl gathering made up of 100% guys.  The response to this commercial was a very awkward silence.  We could hear crickets.)

The Mike Martz “Curious Challenge” Award

To Tony Dungy, for inexplicably challenging a third quarter play in which he thought Chicago broke the huddle with 12 men.  Despite the fact that this offense did not occur within the first five minutes of the game, this was Martzism at its very finest, essentially donating a timeout to the corporate jackals looking for more commercial time.  Hell, we didn’t even think this was a challengeable kind of thing until Jim Nantz confirmed – in his normal, soothing tone, of course – that it really was.  For the record, we still think Nantz was full of ####, but we’ll go along with the call on the field.

The New Found Glory “All Downhill From Here” Award

To the marketing gurus that effectively compiled the 2007 class of Super Bowl commercials and batted the very best ad in the leadoff position.  Thanks.  No really, thanks.  With the exception of that first commercial – two guys playing rock-paper-scissors, literally, for a bottle of Bud Light – and the old coots rejoicing over “stronger streams” because of Flomax in the second half, this year’s ads were some of the worst in recent memory.  All told, the beer spots were incredibly weak, the soda commercials were remarkably uncreative – is Pepsi still making drinks (or tv ads) these days? – and the spots with animals were just plain stupid.  Somewhere, the Budweiser Frogs just rolled over in their graves.

The Jack Parkman “I’m the only player on this team” Award

To teammates Thomas Jones and Devin Hester, who tried their best to win Super Bowl XLI despite playing on a team that apparently had other ideas.  Jones was explosive with the ball, amassing 112 yards on only 15 carries; meanwhile, Hester was, well…  he did it again on the opening kickoff.  You gave it a run, fellas.  Unfortunately, it’s hard to win with five turnovers and, more specifically, a quarterback that gives away the ball like it’s a food sample in a supermarket.

The Jim Nantz “Gushing Commentator” Award

To Jim Nantz, for his, well… gushing commentary of Super Bowl XLI.  Simply put, Nantz was in the zone, firing on all cylinders and talking about everything from Black History Month to the “interesting” tales of Tank Williams.  Yes, Jim, "interesting," to say the least.  We were concerned that he’d eventually black out from the excitement during the Lombardi Trophy presentation, standing there, emceeing the festivities, and looking like a giddy schoolgirl.  But he managed.  And he’s our hero because of it.

On a side note, we were immensely disappointed that Nantz refrained from trotting out one of his patented lines like “Juan shining moment!” or “You can leave it to Cleaves!”  That would’ve validated the 12 hours of coverage we drudged through.

The Lloyd Christmas “I was WAY off” Award

To the shoddy weathermen, who inaccurately predicted a 40% chance of showers during tonight’s Super Bowl.  Seriously, that wasn’t “showers” or even rain falling from the skies of South Florida; it was the ENTIRE GULF OF MEXICO.  Good God.  The whole stadium couldn’t have been too far away from being swept away into the Atlantic by rising currents.  We blame global warming.

(Bonus points here to the forward-thinking stadium technicians that went the extra mile and opted for waterproof sheathing on all electrical wires.  A blown fuse and/or electricution could've hampered the festivities.)

The Scott Spiezio “Exaggerated Soul Patch” Award

To Jim Irsay, the owner of the Indianapolis Colts who might just be the first man to ever grow a soul patch north of his lips.  All right, all right… so what if it wasn’t actually a soul patch, but merely just a darker patch of facial hair mixed in with his grayed mustache; we don’t care.  We’re giving it some press.  That puppy stuck out like a sore thumb.

The Smokey the Bear “Playing it safe” Award

To the NFL, which has now chosen aging, out-o####ate musicians to perform its last three Super Bowl halftime shows in the wake of Janet Jackson’s impromptu peep show.  Granted, all three acts featured historically significant artists, and perhaps this is us just being young and rebellious again, but we have a hard time believing that Prince was the best option here.  In fact, we’re curious as to who the NFL’s top five selections were for this gig.  We'd like to see that list.  Couldn’t a more contemporary selection have been made?  You know, an artist born sometime AFTER the Cuban Missile Crisis?  Apparently not.  We’re eagerly awaiting a performance by Tony Bennett in 2008!

The Nick Nolte “Bad Hair Day” Award

To one of our all-time favorite players, Phil Simms, whose puffy hair most closely resembled that of a newly-hatched chickadee when shown in the CBS broadcast booth.  We felt bad giving Simms an award levied with the namesake of Nolte’s horrendous hair – on his mug shot photo, no less – but we really had no other choices.  Forgive us, Phil.  We still love you for your epic years as a Giant, and especially for that cheesy graphic CBS always shows of you throwing a pass into our living room.

The Ron Burgundy “I immediately regret this decision” Award

To Rex Grossman, the beleaguered quarterback of the NFC champion Chicago Bears who looked like he was trying to bring rain – okay, at least that part worked – with the two cans of corn he lofted to Colts defenders.  We don’t feel it’s out of line to wonder if Grossman threw these on purpose to help out some old college drinking buddies relying on prop bets for  lunch money.

Honorable mention here to our friend “Steak,” who threw the most egregious incompletion of the night when he rifled his Nokia cell phone into a brick wall after the Bears were flagged for running into Adam Vinatieri in the third quarter.  The phone is still in surgery.  We'll keep you posted.

A response to Best of the blogosphere, Super Bowl edition.

(You know, I always wanted to give the "Blog This" icon a try. Alas, I've done it, and it was everything I thought it would be.)

For those of you that missed your curtain call, here's the link to my Super Bowl blogosphere report. All told, I was able to incorporate 33 links and 25 different bloggers. Unfortunately, I was not able to include everyone. Maybe next time.

Great job, everyone, and congrats on the great work!

Here at Quick Slants, we're far too rebellious to endorse standard, Vegas-sanctioned Super Bowl proposition bets.  Nope, we're not interested in wagering on the point spread (Indy -7), the conventional over/under (48.5) or the sobering long-winded possibility of Billy Joel's national anthem exceeding 1:44.  That just doesn't grind our gears.

Indeed, there is plenty of action for the compulsive bettor to examine headed into Sunday's game.  But, quite honestly, we feel the creativity of these cookie-cutter propositions is sub-par and lacking the gusto needed to truly enhance your Super Bowl Week experience.  That's why we're intervening.

In an effort to provide you, the hungry viewer, with the adrenaline rush you've been craving, Quick Slants has compiled a short list of propositions for your consideration.  Hell, we'll even be accepting bets if you're up for it.  Our friends in law school have informed us that all winners will be paid a crude form of money constructed of teal Post-It notes and Elmer's glue.  Though said currency has only intrinsic value on the open market, we're at least slightly confident that it's more stable than the Japanese Yen.

Please submit all bets by February 4th at 6:00 pm ET.

Jim Nantz uses pet quote at the conclusion of Super Bowl XLI.  (3:1 odds)

You might recognize him from such gushing lines as "What a moment!", "A win for the ages!", "There's a new Dean in college basketball!", "You can leave it to Cleaves!", or "Just when you think you can't, you can, and UConn has won the national championship!"  Yes, the always-delightful Jim Nantz will be on the call Sunday, and you can feel confident that he'll bring his own brand of flare to the broadcast.  In the event of a Colts victory, the smart money is on Nantz saying "It Peys to be a Manning!", "It was do or Addai!" or "It's a photo finish for the Colts!"  If the Bears win, the most likely Nantzisms are "It's the key to Urlacher!", "The Bears have struck Gould!", or "Tyrannosaurus Rex!"

Rare stock footage of Manning brothers shown during Super Bowl telecast.  (6:1 odds)

We've all see them; the grainy, old, home videos of Peyton, Eli, and Cooper playing in the backyard that look like they were shot by the same guy that recorded Bigfoot wandering into the forest.  Astoundingly, there seems to be an endless supply of these tapes, as if the Manning brothers were secretly tracked from birth by Kristof from The Truman Show.  If news breaks of a recent security breach at the official Manning Archives -- by petty thieves or G. Gordon Liddy -- you shouldn't be surprised.

Daunte Culpepper arrested; charged with armed robbery; thrown in jail forever (10:1 odds)

Honestly, we didn’t judge poor Daunte for his role in the Lake Minnetonka “Love Boat” scandal – he was just being hospitable.  Nope, our minds were made up long before that, perhaps when he hijacked millions of dollars in fantasy entry fees in 2005 like a thief stealing into the night.  To top things off, he did it again in 2006, convincing the Dolphins (and fantasy owners) that he was a better fit than Drew Brees.  Yeah, that worked out.  So, there’s no question that Culpepper has plenty of time to kill this Super Bowl Week, and for the thousands of people out there that lost their shirts because of this guy, we’re hoping he gets nailed for something, anything.  And with all due respect to the Miami-Dade Police Department and its lightning-fast marijuana tests, if it doesn’t happen, we’re exploring the use of vigilante justice.

Dan Marino and Boomer Esiason engage in fisticuffs on national television (30:1 odds)

It has to be grating on Dan.  Week in and week out.  Boomer Esiason, that smug little analyst, and his snappy analogies.  Real, frickin’ funny, Boomer.  Well, Sunday could finally be Marino’s day of reckoning.  We already know he’s got some pent up aggression from never winning a Super Bowl and being reminded about it on a regular basis, not to mention being kidnapped by Ray Finkle back in the day. 

When all is said and done on Sunday, we’re looking at roughly 12 hours of having these two guys within a 10-foot radius of one another.  This can’t miss.

Fans riot as 60 Minutes postponed until next weekend (10,000,000:1 odds)

We feel this is self-explanatory.  Nobody gives a damn about 60 Minutes.

Peyton Manning misses game due to sun poisoning.  (45:1 odds)

Consider the following…  despite being raised in a southern climate, Peyton Manning has spent the last nine seasons in tropical Indianapolis, a place shielded from UV rays by both the protective bubble of the RCA Dome and the rampant cloud cover than blankets most of the Midwest during the winter months.  Even when the sun does make a cameo, its intensity rivals that of a nightlight when compared to the strong beams that cook South Florida on a daily basis.  In other words, unless Manning is wearing industrial grade tar as sunscreen, his pasty white skin could be dangerously vulnerable.

Reflective intensity of Michael Irvin's gameday suit.  (+/- 1,000,000 candlepower)

Originally, we had planned on associating Michael Irvin’s token line with his abnormally short neckties.  (The over/under for length would’ve been 6.5 inches, not counting the bulbous knot.)  However, we came to the conclusion that high-powered welding glasses would have been needed to visually confirm the length of said tie, given the luminosity of his shiny suits.  So basically, that would've ruined the whole thing.  Now, we're just focusing on the "gleam" of Irvin's suits.  What started out as a rogue fashion statement has quickly snowballed into a weekly gag.  Quite frankly, we wouldn’t be surprised if Irvin showed up wearing tin foil and were launched to the Moon. 

(Oh, and for the record, 1,000,000 candlepower is roughly equivalent to one of those handheld, halogen spotlights that you can buy at any local sporting goods store.)

David Caruso over-acts, again; destroys all credibility of pre-game show (2:1 odds)

It happens every year… the awkward combination of celebrities, Super Bowls, and pre-game coverage.  Last year, it was Harrison Ford’s dramatic reading of Oh! The Places You’ll Go!, while wearing a diamond stud earring and sporting a patchy, gray beard.  This year, we sort of resigned ourselves to the fact that Shaq would be featured in some way, shape or form (hopefully not as part of a Kazaam re-enactment) – that is, until we remembered that CSI: Miami is the top show on the CBS Network!  Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourself for an overdose of David Caruso…  walking…  slowly… to a car.  He’s taking off his sunglasses.  He’s giving you a smart aleck dissertation.  He is the law.  And, he still sucks.

Speaking of which…

CBS opts for CSI: Miami-themed pre-game show (12:1 odds)

We’ve racked our brains long and hard here; the only two possibilities for CBS’s pre-game show – besides Boomer Esiason joshing Dan Marino – are Will Smith’s “Miami” song and That Stupid Show With David Caruso.  Since we’re not aware of any affiliation between Will Smith and The Eye, our money is on “the most watched network” shamelessly promoting the only show that people actually watch.

Archie, Eli, or any other member of the Manning family shown on national television (+/- 8.0 times)

Inside sources have informed us that CBS will be sending a dedicated, high-definition camera to follow the Manning family from start to finish of Sunday's Super Bowl.  While we appreciate the extra effort from CBS, we feel deeply for the poor schmuck that will be relegated to watching Archie instead of Peyton -- that's like being Stifler's younger brother in American Pie II.  Trends would indicate this bet to be a surefire OVER, though our oddsmakers feel the allure of the actual game could curb the final tally.

Quality of Super Bowl XLI (+120) versus quality of commercials (-150)

Uninterested wives and girlfriends around the world have been banking on Super Bowl commercials to pull them through the ordeal for years, so being the equal opportunity bookies that we are, we’ve decided to give them a stake as well.  Quite frankly, we could go either way on this one, but since the official line is seven points and since we’ve already seen Kevin Federline’s Super Bowl spot, we’re giving a slight edge to the commercials.  And yes, this will be the last time Kevin Federline is allowed to sway our opinion.

More later this week…

Listen up, folks...

As part of my ongoing crusade to prove that bloggers have voices, too, I'll be trolling the blogosphere between now and Super Bowl Sunday in an effort to take the temperature of the FOXSports.com community, formulate an article, and give some of the best a little press in the process. 

So, if you've got some free time and an opinion on the big game, it's worth your while to sit down and hammer out a few thoughts to your blog!

Happy Blogging!

Like many of you, my Monday regimen consists of clearing the cobwebs, starting the work week, and watching 24 before it’s time for bed.

But this Monday won’t be like the rest.  Actually, it’ll be much worse.  Whether we’re ready to admit it or not, we’ll all be waking up to a very sobering realization.

Football will be over.

(Sigh.)

Unlike any other sport, football has an eerie magnetism that lures us in, locks us down, and sucker punches us with seeming regularity.  The funny part is that we never see it coming.  Every year, we’re cold-cocked after the Super Bowl and sent reeling through the rest of the calendar with only a few crutches to help us along.  It’s like having a favorite pet run away.  Or kicking the last keg at a co-ed party.  Or quitting cigarettes.  Or having all three occur at once.

Maybe I’m a little over-the-top, but how else are we supposed to respond when an integral part of our lives vanishes into thin air?  Am I the only one left with feelings of emptiness?  I’m guessing I’m not alone.  In fact, I think we’re all looking for answers.  Like Forrest Gump next to a topless Jenny, most of us have no idea how we’re supposed to act.

I’ve never been able to pinpoint it, but there’s something special about the NFL that makes us feel like we’ve got something personal at stake.  Maybe it’s the week-to-week schedule that makes every game important.  Maybe it’s the rowdy camaraderie that leaves us raspier than Bruce Weber.  Maybe it’s the parity that gives every team a realistic chance at the beginning of the season of making the playoffs. 

Or maybe the game has nothing to do with it.  Perhaps it’s the personalities that pique our interest… showboats like Chad Johnson, jackals like T.O., or weirdoes like Ricky Williams.  Perhaps it’s the virtual reality of fantasy football, which sometimes makes us feel far superior to real-life executives like Matt Millen.  Or the betting lines.  Or the time we spend with friends.  Or the Super Bowl commercials.  Or in my mom’s case… the “shiny and tight” uniforms.  I digress…

Whatever your reasoning, the bottom line is that when it’s gone, we miss football more than anything else.  And while we’ll try our best to fill the void, there’s a good chance we’ll have zero success. 

The problem is not that I don’t like other sports, I’m just not ready to move on.  Sure, there’s the NBA, but haven’t the Pistons already clinched the title?  I know there’s college basketball, too, but the real madness doesn’t start until March, anyway.  And I guess there’s always hockey, but I’m still trying to find the Outdoor Life Network, or whatever station the NHL is on these days. 

I don’t mean to discriminate, but nothing’s quite as exciting as football.  I’m sorry, Torino, but two weeks every four years isn’t enough to fix my craving.  (Plus, I’m not sure I know when the Olympics even start.)  NASCAR seems like a popular alternative, but there’s something anti-climactic about driving straight and turning left for 500 laps.  And I know the World Baseball Classic is just around the corner, but if most Major Leaguers don’t care about it, then why the heck should I?

Right now, I’d pick the NFL over almost anything.  You heard correctly, to me it has a more dramatic season than the NBA, a sturdier drug policy than Major League Baseball, and a more honorable setup without those pesky guaranteed contracts.  That’s just the tip of the iceberg… it’s also got more star power than hockey, more popularity than the Olympics, more stability than the Russian ruble, and friendlier cheerleaders than… umm… I’ll have to get back to you. 

To be honest, the thoughts of February’s doldrums are downright frightening, and I wish there was a way I could revolt.  Unfortunately, there’s not much I can do.  Other than generic infomercials featuring NFL superstars and arbitrary games from 1972 on ESPN Classic, football will ride off into the sunset like it does every year, much to my chagrin.  While the Pro Bowl is left for diehard fans like me to hang our hats on, we all know it’s an awfully small hook.  

So as the season draws to a close and I slowly wean myself from the Sunday gridiron, I’ll take solace in the fact that football will be back from time to time -- like an old friend -- in the form of rookie drafts, cheesy skills competitions, and Jerry Rice on Dancing with the Stars.  In the meantime, while the rest of my family is reveling in a Sunday excursion to Bed, Bath & Beyond, I’ll be scouring my belongings looking for random tape recordings of the 1991 Giants with Ray Handley at the helm.

I think they’re still around here somewhere.

Ty Hildenbrandt is a 2004 graduate of the Pennsylvania State University.  He can be reached at tyhildenbrandt@gmail.com. 

A week ago at a local bar, my friend and I got into a heated debate about the teams playing in Super Bowl XL.  An anti-Pittsburgh fan his whole life, he dug deep for all the reasons why Seattle should win Sunday’s contest.  From Tatupu to Alexander to Starbucks coffee, I heard every line in the book.  Quite frankly, it was exhausting and caused somewhat of a scene.  Finally, after arguing our points back and forth for nearly 20 minutes, my friend asked, “Don’t you think this Seahawks team deserves to win a Super Bowl after 30 years of nothing?”

I’ve had some time to think about it.  The answer is still no.

All too often, our fascination with prolific droughts clouds our perception of who’s deserving and who isn’t.  Maybe it’s our inherent sentimentality, or one too many replays of Byner’s blunder, but there’s a part of each and every one of us that wants to root for the long, overdue franchises in today’s sports world.  Whether we care to admit it or not, we’re all guilty of it.

Unfortunately, perception is not always reality, and since today’s topic is the most deserving team and not franchise, forgive me for siding with the Steelers.

I’ll admit that I wrote Pittsburgh off when Big Ben injured his knee, opted for surgery, and reluctantly handed the keys to Tommy Maddox.  I couldn’t help it.  For Steelers fans, this must’ve been an outright torturous scenario, like childhood incubus attacks… or Shaq in Kazaam.  Needless to say, we all had our doubts, probably even Bill Cowher, who was levied with the task of creating a successful game plan that didn’t include the nucleus of his offense.  Clearly, this was the most precarious hurdle of Pittsburgh’s season, and they could’ve easily cracked against seemingly inferior opponents. 

But they didn’t.  Somehow, they survived.  Perhaps we all forgot just how battle-tested the Steelers were.  After all, they did tally 16 wins last season and come within one game of the Super Bowl.  Maybe it wasn’t all that unexpected that the Steelers went a casual 2-2 without Big Ben and positioned themselves at a respectable 7-3 mark before the final six games.  And despite two more big losses to Indianapolis and Cincinnati after Roethlisberger’s return, maybe we should’ve known that Pittsburgh would steady the ship, win their final four games, and qualify for postseason play.

Say what you want about the Steelers sub-par schedule down the stretch, but team character, especially in today’s day and age, should not be under appreciated.  The way the Steelers pulled together is certainly worthy of something special in my book.

The aforementioned quarterback qualms weren’t the only woes to plague Pittsburgh this season.  In fact, the Steelers front office was forced to deal with an early season conundrum that shook the very foundation of Heinz Field and left many fans in an eerie state of imbalance.  Very quietly, in the middle of the Terrell Owens saga, Hines Ward raised similar contractual concerns and threatened to sit out the season, which likely would’ve crippled the Steelers receiving corps, especially with Plaxico Burress no longer on the team.  Ward, a fan favorite and the lifeblood of the Steelers offense, claimed he’d outperformed his contract and refused to play unless given a new deal.  Basically, Ward had the most powerful bargaining chip of all in his back pocket:  leverage.  This posed an obvious quandary for the Steelers ownership given the Rooney family’s hard-nosed stance against past holdouts and free agents.

But the threat never came to pass.  After two weeks and a heart-to-heart with Bill Cowher, Ward rethought his position, rejoined his teammates, rekindled negotiations, and re-signed with the only team he’s ever known.  Likewise, ownership veered from its vehement position and offered Ward the chance to hash out a new deal during the season, a rare event in Steelers history.  By early September, Ward was sipping Cristal to the tune of a new four-year deal worth an estimated $24 million.  Pittsburgh breathed a collective sigh of relief as a disaster was averted.  Art Rooney must’ve felt like a million bucks.  Or a billion.  Whatever.

The bottom line is that deserving teams find creative ways to fend off adversity.  Any way you shake it, Pittsburgh’s done just that by playing respectable football with Tommy Maddox and/or Charlie Batch, and breaking unspoken family rules to re-up with a franchise receiver.  There have been other situations, too -- the emergence of Willie Parker, the more frequent use of trick plays, and the slow-but-steady evolution from a run-heavy offense to more of a balanced attack.  All have helped define the Steelers as an adaptable team with a win-at-all-cost mentality.

That same gritty mindset has fueled arguably the greatest postseason run in NFL history.  In fact, Pittsburgh’s playoff accomplishments have already overshadowed their profound achievements during the regular season.  Can you blame anyone jumping on the bandwagon?  It’s been an absolutely incredible journey with the kind of plot you’d expect to find in a Disney movie.  (Not a cheap movie either, I’m talking Remember the Titans-type quality, minus the tearful “WEAK SIDE! STRONG SIDE!” hospital scene and clumsy option offense.)  They’ve earned my respect; never before has a sixth seed blazed such a trail, or even made it to the Super Bowl.

Until now.

Look at Pittsburgh’s unprecedented path to Detroit and tell me it’s not amazing… AT #3 Cincinnati… AT #1 Indy… AT #2 Denver.  Talk about a murderer’s row of games, could it have been any tougher?  Could Pittsburgh have played any better against such stiff competition?  I think not.  In all three games, they were downright dominating – including the Indianapolis game before things got dicey.  Even if you hate the Steelers, you have to admit that they’ve been impressive.  Their offense has operated with robotic efficiency.  Their defense has swarmed like bees looking for honey.  Their coaching has been borderline clairvoyant.  And unfortunately for Seattle, Pittsburgh’s momentum has never been greater.

With their recent march through the AFC bracket, the Steelers have done the most important thing a deserving team can do; they’ve confirmed why they deserve to win by annihilating everyone in their postseason path.  Their run through a considerably tougher conference has been nothing short of monumental.  That has to be worth something.

So as Super Bowl debates heat up around the country, remember the roller coaster season of the Pittsburgh Steelers.  From debilitating injuries to personnel problems and unfavorable match ups, they’ve seen more than their fair share of adversity… and lived to tell about it.  More importantly, they’ve validated their own cause and proven to the world that seedings, records, and road games aren’t enough to hold a good team down.

To me, that’s the definition of deserving.

Ty Hildenbrandt is a 2004 graduate of the Pennsylvania State University.  He can be reached at tyhildenbrandt@gmail.com. 

When the cameras pan the grandstands of Ford Field on February 5^th, there’s no doubt we’ll see a gaggle of celebrities, dignitaries, and corporate mustaches with swanky suits.  I suppose we’ve come to expect these kind of sightings at the Super Bowl as it’s evolved from a run-of-the-mill game in 1967 to a cultural symbol and virtual holiday over the past few decades.  The problem, however, is that one worthy contingent will appear a con####uous minority:  season ticket holders.  In fact, if I could be Paul Tagliabue for a day, I’d take the thousands of Super Bowl tickets awarded to league officials, Hollywood icons, and corporate fat cats and give them to the average, everyday fans of the teams playing for the Lombardi Trophy.  Whether the NFL is ready to admit it or not, the biggest sham associated with the Super Bowl is its methodology for distributing tickets. 

In case you didn’t know, the NFL has a pre-defined system for deciding who goes to the Super Bowl and who doesn’t.  This year’s 65,000 game tickets will be distributed in a way that grants 35% to the Steelers and Seahawks, another 35% to the teams that didn’t qualify (but not the host), 25% to the league office, and the remaining 5% to the Detroit Lions.  There’s no such thing as general admission.  Do the math and you’ll find that Pittsburgh and Seattle will split about 23,000 tickets, while the remaining 42,000 will go to other league beneficiaries.  In theory, the NFL has its heart in the right place by rewarding all its contributors with a healthy stipend, but numbers can be deceiving and things are more tainted than they seem.

Consider this… individual teams have the autonomy to divvy up ticket allotments however they see fit; there’s no rhyme or reason to how a team breaks up its stash.  Since all professional franchises have lucrative contracts with corporate sponsors and partners, it’s only natural that big business is the first to be recognized when seats become available.  Likewise, teams set aside an arbitrary number of tickets for ex-players, team officials, and the families of current players, which cuts even deeper into the reservoir of game day passes.  Once a franchise finally fulfills its internal obligations, the remaining tickets are raffled off in lottery format to eager season ticket holders at face value. 

So, what’s the hold-up?  Well, teams have a tendency to skew their distributions more towards Corporate America and less towards their paying fan bases.  This year, Seattle designated about 8,500 tickets that will be dispersed among its 46,000 season ticket holders; however, some franchises have been less than generous in past Super Bowls.  Take the 2002-03 Raiders, for example, who according to the Oakland Tribune, allocated only 2,000 seats for season ticket holders while sponsors and other parties received about 9,500.  No, I’m not kidding.  The story is more of the same around the NFL and even worse in the league office, where nearly all of the tickets are given to business champions and a mere 1,000 are sold to the masses.  The bottom line is that true fans have become an afterthought… and it’s just not right.

For a second, imagine that you’re a lifelong Seahawks fan.  You’ve witnessed the great Steve Largent.  You’ve cheered on Rickey Watters and Curt Warner.  You’ve suffered through the Dennis Erickson era.  You’ve found creative ways to appreciate Dave Kreig and Rick Mirer.  You’ve owned season tickets at the Kingdome and now at Qwest Field.  You even would’ve helped Chris Warren pay child support if financially possible.  Most importantly, you’ve dedicated 30 years of unbridled support to a Super Bowl wish, and now it’s finally come true.  Will you be in Detroit?  Probably not.  In all likelihood, you won’t even have a chance to go.  Even though you’ve been to every Seahawks game in the last 20 years, a seat won’t be reserved for you unless you hit the lottery (literally) or pay over $2,000 to a shady ticket broker or Mike Tice.

And that’s just Seahawks fans.  My guess is that the same situation is also happening in Pittsburgh, where people are probably selling their first born children and taking out second mortgages for (possibly) counterfeit tickets on eBay.  (Trust me, I know people from Pittsburgh.  I live in the same state.  This is not as far-fetched as you’d like to believe.)

My point is not that the NFL should shut out its corporate buddies, but that it should give a little more love to the devoted fan bases that have helped grow football into our nation’s most popular sport.  Would it kill them to mandate a percentage that must go to the season ticket holders?  Would it strain business relationships too much to allot one-third of the tickets to the fans?  How about one-half?  Why not even more?  At the very least, the NFL needs to do something to ensure that the most deserving spectators get in the stadium.  I think that’d only be fair.

So as the Super Bowl kicks off and countless celebrities are paraded on national television, do your best to keep the facts in mind.  Whether we like it or not, the NFL is abandoning its most loyal supporters in the name of corporate sponsorships and multi-million dollar promotions.  In the meantime, to the thousands of Steelers and Seahawks fans waiting on pins and needles for a shot at tickets, let me offer some advice…

Clean the parlor.  Chill the beer.  Invite some friends.  Let ‘em cheer.  And plop yourself… on a comfy chair.  ‘Cause you’re not going anywhere.

Over the next two weeks, there’s no doubt we’ll be overwhelmed with exhaustive Super Bowl coverage and the most minute details of each team’s road to Detroit.  While the teams are busy studying film and fine-tuning their game plans, we’ll be learning about Matt Hasselbeck’s third grade gym class, Ben Roethlisberger’s supposed (former) crush on Natalie Gulbis, and the three degrees of separation between Mike Holmgren and Kevin Bacon…  courtesy of Laurence Fishburne and the immortal Cylk Cozart.

There is, however, a fundamental problem:  all I really care about is the football game.  (They do still play the game, right?)  Furthermore, with all the media hubbub, embarrassing stories, and “team of destiny”-type headlines during Super Bowl week, I can’t help but wonder if the extra time is being used to prepare us -- the fans --  or the actual teams playing for the Lombardi Trophy.

Seriously, just let the boys play.

The most common misconception among football fans is that the two week period between conference title games and the Super Bowl helps level the playing field.  After all, with the extra time, you’d think teams would have a better chance to study tendencies and schemes and put together a more educated plan of attack.  It’s also a logical assumption that you’d see closer, more dramatic games, which is probably one of the things professional football had in mind when it launched its Super Bowl era postseason in 1966. 

But contrary to popular belief, there is no data to suggest that the two week layover has made for closer Super Bowls.  In fact, the numbers argue that it’s made them more lopsided; more prep time has done little to balance the final scores.  For example, the average margin of victory in the 32 Super Bowls that have followed a two week hiatus is about 16 points.  By comparison, Super Bowls that have been played on only one week’s rest -- seven to be exact -- have had an average victory margin of 11.5 points.  Moreover, only 10 of the games played after a two week respite have had final scores with single-digit margins of victory, indicating that better teams are more apt to expose weaknesses in their opponents.  With all that said, I think it’s safe to say that the statistics clearly show…

Nothing. 

That’s right, absolutely nothing! 

Even though I’m somewhat of a “stats guy,” the bottom line is that there really isn’t enough data on games played on one week’s rest to suggest that they’re any better; only seven games in Super Bowl history!  Plus, averages can be misleading.  However, in this case, it’s what the statistics DON’T show us that is most important:  there’s no evidence to prove that one-week Super Bowls are any worse.  In reality, the whole one week / two week debate is as subjective as picking your favorite Wilson brother.

So, if you’re not already asking it, I’ll be the one to break the ice…  if there’s no real difference, what’s the point of waiting two weeks until the Super Bowl?

The NFL would argue that it uses the two weeks to get its ducks in order at the designated venue; all while allowing fans more time to make travel arrangements, teams to heal their injured, and the media to run wild with every conceivable subplot.  Unfortunately, I’m not buying it.  And you shouldn’t either.

As a lifelong fan, I want my football to be more like my orange juice:  pure and not from concentrate.  In its traditional form, the NFL postseason feels diluted, almost like it’s lost some of its pulp. 

Or in this case, its momentum.

Above all else, it’s the intangible element of the Super Bowl that suffers the most from the current system, which just happens to be my favorite part.  Like it or not, the rich aura of the game will be slowly drained over the next two weeks in ancient, blood-letting fashion.  In fact, after two weeks of incessant coverage, the game will feel as though its already happened, leaving fans asking, “Can we please get this over with?” instead of, “Wow, it’s the Super Bowl!”  And though people will watch, they’ll inevitably lose some degree of interest.  I’m sorry to say it, but I just can’t shake the feeling that the Super Bowl will feel a little less super on February 5th. 

In my opinion, the NFL can tap back into the mystique and pageantry that drives our fandom by scaling back the dreaded layover to one week.  Why not put the “Wow” back into the Super Bowl by eliminating the fluff?  Why not encourage genuine interest in the event and not false appeal fabricated by the media?  Why not ignite the Super Bowl with the same week-to-week spark that makes NFL football special the other 19 weeks of the regular and postseason?  Why not keep magical playoff runs rolling instead of delaying them until further notice?  And most importantly, why not leverage the momentum of the playoffs and fan the fires in our bellies instead of extinguishing them?

So, as you’re bombarded with storylines and little-known idiosyncrasies in the coming days, don’t feel guilty if your attention span grows weary.  In actuality, it’s the football game that counts, nothing else.  Furthermore, with no real reason to believe that two weeks are better than one, I can’t help but wonder if the NFL forgot about the true allure of the Super Bowl… or if it just doesn’t care.  As a direct result, you’ll be force-fed plenty of reasons why an extra week of painstaking preparation, hyperbolic healing, and compelling coverage is better for the Super Bowl…

But I’m encouraging you not to #### it.