For the 48th time in a row, America utterly destroyed Europe in the Super Bowl. Not used to such a high-flying game with explosive pyrotechnics, celebrity studded crowds and true bitter cold, it is no wonder the Europeans hardly even showed up: such a show of hardcore capitalism is a shock to many lesser nations, the true tenacity of Americans who want a big sporting event.
The European’s NFL, sometimes called the Rugby Union, just isn’t tough enough. As the great Jaime Escalente would say, rugby players just don’t “have the ganas” to keep up with the likes of Russell Wilson. We can see that we can take a team from any random American city, and always have the guarantee the America is the best football team on Earth.
David Beckham, a British football player, was wearing a nice cardigan sweater, hiding out in the luxury box. The bitter cold was just too much for him. There is no way he could have withstood an onslaught from Seattle’s mighty pass rushing offense. He would have begged the referees to protect him from the ‘big, terrifying’ Seahawks by showing off little red and yellow cards, like they do in European football games.
In America, we don’t give the quarterbacks such luxury. Only the most bone-crushing hits after the play may earn you a yellow flag, which only results in setting your team back a good 15 yards. In Europe, they don’t even give measured penalties (perhaps it is that weird metric system that makes it too hard for them to calculate and convert 15 yards). Instead, they make the offending player sit in timeout if they so much as knock over their opponents.
If you ever want to hang with the big dogs, Europe, then you got to get off the porch and grow a pair, my friends. This is 48 Super Bowls and being crowned the greatest football champions of the world.