Pig Skin!
Dear Sweet Baby Touchdown Jesus:
We are very ready for the Super Bowl. Please send it posthaste, and let there be massive murder-death hits, and bloody stumps, and atomic explosions. Let there be knives in the knee pads, and H-bombs in the helmets.
We’re not asking much. We want the bad team to get hit so hard their babies go Down Syndrome. We’re lighting a candle in the end zone of your altar. We’re crossing our fingers in the seats of your bleachers.
In anticipation of this weekend’s melee we’re reading our favorite football novel. End Zone by Don DeLillo. (Not that book by Rudy Ruetigger). — Brian Allen Carr
