OMAHELP! Broncos’ 43-8 crushing in Super Bowl really wasn’t that close

How bad was it?

So bad that I actually downed a couple of second half Bud Light Limes, leftovers from a misguided Christmastime purchase by a non-beer drinker in the family, at my mother’s Super Bawl party Sunday evening.

It didn’t help that, to make them marginally palatable, they were mixed with orange juice to form the “beermosa” that sometimes accompanies breakfast on our summertime camping trips. If there’d been any V-8 juice around, a bloody-looking Wyoming red beer would have been a more appropriate choice.

Bad as the much-ballyhooed Super Bowl (insert appropriate number of Xs and Ix and Vs here, I barely survived high school Latin) was, there ought to be some sort of award for the Associated Press sports writer who came up with this lead paragraph in the featured story on The Daily Sentinel’s sports pages yesterday morning.

“EAST RUTHERFORD, N.J. — Waiting to get their hands on the Lombardi Trophy, the Seahawks were surrounded by security guards in orange jackets. It was the first time anyone in that color stopped them all night.”

Ouch! Pretty harsh, but heartbreakingly accurate. Jack Del Rio needed to summon up the kids from that TV commercial to remind his rather offensive defensive charges that, in the NFL, it’s tackle football.

But probably not as harsh as the treatment in the Columbus, Wis., bar where my niece and her Patriots-loving husband, a New England refugee, viewed the game. This after walking to the bar wearing orange tutus and sporting Denver Broncos horse heads. Thankfully, being required to stay in costume through Denver’s first offensive series was all-too-blessedly brief. Having to put the gear back on for halftime and wear it through the Broncos’ first series of the second half was a little more stressful.

That ought to teach Paul not to bet on playoff games with his father-in-law. After that excursion in the heart of rural Wisconsin Cheesehead territory, I suspect environmental law and summers at Stephanie’s anthropological research site in the jungles of Southeast Asia will seem like a walk on the proverbial beach.

Though the food might be equally bad — tasteless fried Walleye in Wisconsin, canned snails on Top Ramen and God-knows-what on rice in the deepest jungles of Borneo. That’s where they’d really appreciate a Bud Light Lime.

About the time of my first fruit-flavored beer, I poached a look at Bonnie’s Facebook page. There, a friend had posted a picture of a certain rather startled-looking quarterback. The caption read “OMAHELP!”

Peyton Manning won some of the statistical battles, a Super Bowl record 34 completions included, but Russell Wilson, with only 18, won the game.

Let’s award Manning the President Al Gore Trophy. Demaryius Thomas had more catches (13) than the Broncos had points (8).  He’s runner-up.

Somewhere in East Rutherford, there’s a sister looking for a kiss.

Seems to me the Seahawks’ magic number was 12. As in seconds, not 12th Man.

Twelve seconds into the game, a safety as an errant snap sailed past Manning into the end zone and set the tone for the rest of the matchup. Twelve seconds into the second half, an 87-yard Percy Harvin kickoff return for a touchdown consigned to the coffin any hopes for a comeback from a 22-point deficit.

Time then to start analyzing Bruno Mars’ glitter jacket versus Joe Namath’s bulky fur versus the topless but well-tatted Red Hot Chili Peppers. Thumbs up for Namath, even though he tried to flip the coin early, before the Seahawks had called heads or tails. Thumbs down on the halftime show.

Thumbs up on the commercials, though overall the memorability factor seemed down.

Anyone else getting tired of cheesy Budweiser animal commercials? Thumbs up to Radio Shack and the cast of aging celebrities in the “The 80s called and wants their store back” spot. Ditto for the dog-riding kid in the Doritos commercial.

My personal favorites, Bob Dylan’s twofer for Chrysler and Chobani.

Don’t you wish we were celebrating a championship rather than facing a year’s worth of this?

“Use the promo code PEYTON when ordering a Papa John’s pizza. When it’s delivered, a Seahawks defensive back will take it from you and eat it.”

Jim Spehar apologizes to Sentinel columnists Rick Jussell and Steve Beauregard for this intrusion into their territories. Your thoughts are welcome at .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address).


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