I did not watch the game completely.  I did see the last quarter in its entirety.

I  favored Green Bay, but was alright if Seattle won.  This reasoning is because I feel Seattle has the defense to beat New England.  My daughter echoed the same sentiment.

I truly like Rogers as a quarterback.  I think, when healthy, he is the best.  He has not been healthy a complete season two years running.  I don’t think he would have been healthy for the Super Bowl either.

These and other swirling sentiments did not take away me pulling for Green Bay.  I fall under that cloud that makes me pull for “some” team  even if I don’t have a dog in the fight.  I wanted Green Bay.

Many are lamenting in Gold and Green country.  On the West Coast they are getting high and singing hallelujahs.   It matters in the context that it was a terrific game of men playing their hearts out to win.  Nothing more and nothing less.  That the mistakes piled on and tilted the field one way in the first half and then slide slowly to the other side of the field in the second half is a personification of the ebb and flow of sporting events, or at least an aspect of them.  Watching the game I never felt “comfortable” that the Packers were going to win.  They did not.

Most are concentrating on the closing minutes of the game.  I admit I have refrained from reading other’s comments, excepting one.    I needed to know what the responsibility was of the young man, now goat tagged for the rest of his life, who misplayed the onside kick.  Come to find he was to block any attempt of Seattle personnel should the ball come to his area and let Jordy Nelson, positioned just behind him, go get the ball.  O.k.  I understand that.  Yet he is a tight end.  He supposedly can catch a football.  The ball came right at him.  Instinctively he went to grab it and failed; miserably.  He tried to make a play and did not.  The Seattle player did.  It is what happens in games. Someone has to make a positive play, even when it comes after another has made a negative.

The slide to oblivion continued for the Pack.

I cannot fault him.  Go ahead you haters and tweet your venom.  This game was lost in so many areas, but it was also WON by Seattle who still needed to make plays.  They did when it mattered.  The Pack did not.  And now the best team to compete for the Super Bowl title is playing New England.  Good.  I am tired of Patriot Country.  Amazingly so.  I have such respect for what they have accomplished, their Hall of Fame coach and how he has directed that team over the decade.  Yet I cannot find it in me to like them.

I am tired of the media’s pendulum swings to who are the greatest and who we should be bowing to in tribute.  The altar of Fame driven by Big Time sports has sauteed the ingredients of accomplishments in a saucepan of drivel.   How many of you remember the absolutely wonderful pass from Ben Rothlesberger to Santonio Holmes with his tip of his toes in bounds surrounded by three Cardinal defenders, all after big Ben scrambled to buy time??  With 35 seconds remaining?  And if so, even if you are a Steeler fan, does it make a difference to you now?

But I do not dismiss the moment.  It is what makes sports so enthralling.  Thus I am not throwing the Cheese Melt out as “oh well.”  I get it that it hurts the fan who so lives for a team.  Sports helps pull people up from the mendacity of life.  They get to exceed the daily grind.  I am suggesting that one breath deep and go watch a movie, go running, do something to get yourself beyond the Melt.  Because in a few days, weeks, perhaps months, it will not matter.

I cannot leave you without my personal desire to exorcise the absolute legalism of Professional football.  It is mind numbing.  I actually believe the game has morphed into a conundrum of legality, puffy pundits, and trivial statistics.  Make it better??  Can’t.  The game has taken on religious attributes; from substitutional morsels to a day of defined adulation.  I don’t want to pay any more for the fuel to fly the USAF jets over the field.  Besides, someday they might run into a drone.

If one is subject to depressive attributes when “your” team, no matter the sport, ends up with the short straw, perhaps you should learn and apply what my brother did years ago with the Minnesota Vikings.  He quit watching. Makes wood articles now, reads books and actually feels much better!

I called this the article “Melting Cheese.”  I’ll end it by saluting the Flying Seahawks.  And no, I won’t be watching the Super Bowl.  I will check to see who won. Hope the balls are all inflated correctly.