Sunday, February 01, 2015

A Song of Beer and Babes

If George R. R. Martin was a sportswriter:

Arizona (Raven Press) -- When you play the game of end zones, you either win or you die.

On February 1, 2015, House New England met the forces of House Seattle on the field of battle to decide who would be King of the NFL.

House New England, whose sigil is a solemn man with a long hat, was led in battle by Lord Brady, who was named King of the East.

Their house motto is "I’m just telling you what I know."

Brady was clad in armor of snow white and a silver helm, and accompanied by Lady Gisele.

Lord Brady and his bannermen have the symbol of their god, Nike, emblazoned on their armor in a sign of piety to The Official Sponsor.

Lord Brady relied on Ser Gronkowski, his squire elevated from a mere hedge knight and called "the Mountain that Catches," and now seeking the privileges of a great house, with endorsements for him and his heirs.

Maester Belichick, dressed in the loose traditional hoodie of his order, advised Lord Brady. Known for dabbling in the black arts, Belichick has been rumored to be a warg, able to take the form of an eagle to spy on opponents as they prepared for battle. He is said to be able to master ball air pressure from a distance.

Their foes, House Seattle, whose sigil is a sea bird, was led by Lord Wilson, styled both King of the West and King of the NFL by past conquest.

Their motto is "I'm just here so I won't get fined."

House Seattle's knights were clad in armor of deep sea blue, matching helms, and bright green shoes.

Fielding a "Legion of Doom," House Seattle had hopes of defeating the alleged sorcery of Maester Belichick with these bannermen.

House Seattle, too, wears the symbol of Nike, the Swoosh, with equal fervor, so they will not be fined by the League.

Lord Wilson had the counsel of Maester Carroll, bedecked in a blue body suit. He chewed the gum of the juicy fruit to calm his nerves.

Lord Brady and Lord Wilson, with their bannermen in attendance, met for the ritual toss of the coin in mid-battlefield.  Such a toss has had a fifty percent prediction rate for the eventual victors of battle.

Supervised by NFL septons dressed in their order's black and white as a sign of their faith in absolute outcomes, the Lombardi coin--minted of the finest Valyrian Steel--was won by House Seattle.

After thirty minutes of heavy battle, the contest hung in the balance with neither side gaining an advantage as the smallfolk watched from the sides, as Silent Sisters ministered to the morale of the knights and their smallfolk supporters with dance and bending.

Indeed, a traveling bard by the name of Katyperry--wearing her hair plastered to her head in a somewhat successful effort to conceal her sex--entertained those watching the battle while each army victualed and sought the coaching services of their maesters.

Yet after the resting period when wounds were dressed, battlefield preparations were made, and (allegedly) air pressure was altered in game balls, the battle was finally decided.

Although the lines of battle ebbed and flowed, Lord Brady finally bested Lord Wilson, who slashed his foot with his own sword.

King Brady won the pigskin throne.

And then Maester Belichick was ritually drowned in celebration.

Oddly, nobody died during the battle, somewhat depriving the audience of a sense of wonder at the whims of the gods who watch over us.

Although it is rumored that an offensive coordinator's head shall be dipped in tar and displayed on a spike on the walls of the losing team's castle for the remainder of the off-season.

Because when you play the game of end zones, you either win or you lose. Valar morghulis.