THE SUPERCILIOUS BOWL by Jim Redwine

Gavel Gamut

By Jim Redwine

(Week of 02 February 2015)

THE SUPERCILIOUS BOWL

New England 34, Seattle 31. No, not the score of the Super Bowl, but the number of inches of snow in New England and the number of times some ditzy commentator will gush over Richard Sherman’s rude comments.

As I am writing this column before Sunday, February 01, 2015, these truly are predictions. Further, I predict the state of Arizona will buy a Super Bowl commercial touting the tender mercies of Sheriff Joe Arpaio. Oh, wait a minute. Arizona has already paid to have Arpaio’s face on a Times Square “JumboTron”. Sheriff Joe, better known as the Godfather of Maricopa County, or perhaps law enforcement’s bad penny, solemnly chastises us, in advance of even stepping foot into Arizona to, “Enjoy our state, obey all laws and be safe.” Joe’s own scoffing at federal immigration laws is not mentioned.

One hundred million viewers, including Peg and me, will spend an entire day watching sweaty millionaires display the benefits of a college education. Who knew all those nights not spent in the library would be so lucrative? I remember trying to explain to my parents why such subjects as algebra and English were interfering with my opportunity to invest in my future and pointing to such wealthy intellectuals as Broadway Joe Namath as proof. My folks were so misguided. They kept concentrating on my time in the forty-yard dash. I found this short sighted. Their view of my football talent clouded their ability to see my true potential. This was also a flaw of my coaches.

Ah, well, that was then and New England versus Seattle is now. Let’s you and I address the relative merits of Tommy Terrific and Russell Wilson. You will note that Wilson has no nickname. He also has no model for a wife nor does he have millions of starry-eyed teenage girls who don’t know a deflated football from an over inflated ego to swoon over him. Russell isn’t that cute. Oh, he can play football and bring forth last second victories from impossible odds, but he looks like your plumber. Forget him. Brady is to quarterbacks what John Kennedy was to presidents. Who cares what he does as long as he looks great doing it?

On the other hand, Russell Wilson is aptly named; much as the steady, loyal quiet friend of Tom Hanks in The Castaway. No drama no pizazz, no east coast media frenzy, just results.

So here are my real predictions made pre-XLIX: Tom Brady will whine about the hot Arizona weather messing up his hair and Russell Wilson will pull off a victory in the final two minutes.