Friday, January 30, 2009

what I submitted to Ellen to get Super Bowl tickets

I am sure I will not win them, even though I believe my essay is superior to that of others submitting theirs to Ellen for Super Bowl tickets. It was supposed to show how you were the biggest fan, it had to be oringinal and it had to be funny. Hopefully I accomplished this, even if I will be watching the game from someplace not called Raymond James.

Here is the essay:

You will doubtlessly receive many more essays from Steelers fans, but have no compassion upon those requests. After 7 Super Bowls, they have had their chance. For a lifelong Cardinals fan living 3 miles from the stadium, this could be the only chance I get. If it took 60 years to return to a championship game, next time I would be 100 yrs old. While I may have good genes, these are not odds I want to take.

I am cheap: no hotel, no plane fare; just tickets. In a recession you need to allocate your resources in a responsible manner and I am here to help. Don't spend precious money willy nilly like Merrill Lynch redecorating the CEO's office. In the immortal words of Jerry Maguire to the most famous Cardinal of all time, Rod Tidwell; "Help me, help you."

Ellen, I mean that.

Do not pick the fan from Phoenix who has "loved" the Cardinals for a short time. Do not pick the St. Louis resident who let them go. Pick the guy who has no reason to root for this team yet deeply loves them anyway. Pick the guy who has more character than a Cowboys fan. Anyone can like that team, but it takes someone codependent to love the loveless, for over 30 years… from a distance. Pick the guy who could have picked a good franchise but instead chose to give his heart to the girl who broke his heart needlessly over … and over.

Sure, he has been infatuated with prettier girls along the way. He fell for the supermodel from San Fran in the '80s, considered the new girl in town when the Rams came calling, was intrigued by the wild, unpredictable girl from Green Bay and even briefly dated the total package while living in New England. But his true love, the dysfunctional one forgotten in the desert, was always on his mind.

And when she came calling in Tampa, he had no way to see her. Help me see my first love. It is up to you.

1 comment:

RDF said...

THat was beautiful! I'm a little verklempt after reading it. God bless you Rick Bennett and those sorry sons of bitches the AZ cards!


P.S. Not to burst your bubble, but you may have been a little too smart sounding for Ellen to use on her show. You should have gone a little more low brow (see my previous e-mails for examples).