Bah, Humbug!

It didn’t bother me that the Broncos beat the Patriots. It disappointed me, but it didn’t bother me. Maybe I haven’t paid enough attention to the Broncos’ dark side, letting myself be dazzled instead by the aura of Peyton Manning. I’m enough of an intellectual elitist to love a quarterback who calls his own plays — if he can make them work, of course.

Has anyone does a “Where is Ryan Leaf now?” story?

I’m tired of Richard Sherman. I was tired of Pete Carroll before he left USC. There were so many reasons I wanted the 49ers to beat the Seahawks.  I’m tired of the hype about the commercials. I used to look forward to the commercials. Now I know that they, too, are a preordained disappointment.

I don’t know what I’ll be doing at 5:30 CST tonight, but it probably won’t involve the gridiron game. Nor will it involve counting down to pitchers and catcher reporting.

Where’s my spell-casting rogue?


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