By Eric Emery
For the past few days, I have tried to wrap my head around this year’s Super Bowl match-up. Just how, for example, did the Bears even land in the Super Bowl? Did they consistently dominate their opponents? Yes, for the first five weeks. Did they play great defense? Sometimes. Did they get great play out of their quarterback? As much as they did not.
The Colts provide even fewer answers. Where did their suddenly competent run defense come from? Where has Marvin Harrison gone? Why does Peyton Manning express sadness in a commercial that a former coach of his introduced him to Rock and Roll? Was that a bad thing? And what’s with the cheesy mustache get-up?
Simply put, I’ve been having trouble making sense of it all. That is, I was having trouble until Friday night.
For our office Secret Santa exercise, I received a $10 movie gift card. Since it was my wife’s turn to pick, I found this to be the best occasion to not pay full price for a bad movie – one inevitably lacking in car crashes, gun fights, and/or sports action.
I was not prepared however, to suffer through the worst movie of all time – Catch and Release.
(I hereby now issue a Spoiler Alert; if I leave out the relevant details, some day when you are roped into this steaming pile of monkey crap, you’d seek vengeance on me.)
Nothing made sense. Nothing.
Well, except the part where Jennifer Garner looked hot. Besides the hotness, nothing made sense. Garner is to marry a man, but he dies. Sure, that happens. And Garner gets mad at her deceased fiance’s friend Fritz for covering up some small details, such as the deceased’s secret bank accounts, his mistress in California, her bastard boy, and the $3,000 in monthly payments to the mistress. Oops.
As the saying goes, bad things happen to good people. Well, not really. At least according to the dead man’s upper crust bitch of a mother, who accuses Garner of not satisfying her son sexually and driving him to the arms of a hussy. Boo-ya! Yeah, and by the way Miss Garner, could you be a doll and return that wedding ring that has been in the family for six generations? You know, because he’s dead and your no longer with him?
And here’s thing thing: Garner never gets angry.
Remember how Fritz lied about the mistress? But does this make him dating material? Of course! You know, fornicating with a lying piece of crap makes sense. Oh yeah, especially after he porked some other random woman in a bathroom. Did I forget to mention that the deed went down at the deceased fiance’s wake? You wouldn’t suppose Garner sat in the bathtub while said deed went down, as she longed for a quiet moment alone? If you also supposed the random woman said “Sock it to me” in the throws of lust, you’d be correct twice.
After all this nonsense, the mistress arrives looking for the deceased, mostly because she’s grown accustomed to the monthly $3,000 she received as child support. Of course, since Garner never married the man, all the loot belongs to the bastard of the mistress, pending the paternity test. Though this seemed like a job for Maury Povich, the mistress and Garner remain on speaking terms. Hey, how about some dinner? I’ll gladly bring the four-year old bastard to serve as a reminder of the deceased fiance’s infidelity! Pass the salad, ’cause Garner rises above it all.
Through all this insanity, all ends well. Everybody finishes 200 man-hours of work on the peace garden dedicated to the deceased. The upper crust bitch gladly gives the mistress money because her son would have wanted it that way. Garner offers the upper crust bitch the ring, but she refuses to take it. Finally, Kevin Smith shacks up with the mistress, using his massive salary earned writing quotes for Celestial Seasonings boxes to support the mistress and the bastard son.
Just in case none of that made sense, Garner brings it home by driving to California to express her love to Fritz. You know, the Fritz who nailed the random chick at the wake. The end.
Driving home from the movie, I tried to make sense of all this. Then it hit me: It doesn’t have to make sense. Does everything in life have to make sense?
Epiphany.
Sure, the Bears’ lackluster play, ugly wins, and questionable coaching led them to a 15-3 record. Their schedule almost never tested them, yet they found ways to be tested by sub-par opponents, like Arizona, Detroit, Tampa Bay, and Miami. You’d think such a team watches the Super Bowl at home. But the Bears are in the Super Bowl. Does it make sense? Of course not. Does it have to make sense? Apparently not.
If Garner never worries about catching all manner of nasty disease from Fritz, then I’m not looking at this logically either.
So I’m picking the Bears. In fact, I’ll do something else. I’m picking the Bears straight up. I’m not stopping there. I’m guaranteeing a Bears victory. Not satisfied? Swell. As Garner is my witness, the Bears blow out the Colts.
I’m not done yet. Rex Grossman completes 18 of 26 passes. The defense gives up only 10 points. Devin Hester returns a punt for a touchdown. After the game, Cedric Benson says, “I’m going to Disneyworld!” Urlacher lays down with three women in the locker room. And using his best “Cleveland from the Family Guy voice,” Lovie Smith says, “Mrs. McCaskey, I’d like that raise now.”
Does any of that make sense? No. But does it really have to? The Bears will be the World Champs.
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Sugar in the Super Bowl pitcher: 65%
Recommended sugar in the Super Bowl pitcher: 100%
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For more Emery, see the Kool-Aid archive, and the Over/Under archive. He can be contacted at Eric_Emery12345@yahoo.com.
Posted on January 27, 2007