Why Can't I Enjoy Sunday Night Football?

One reason...John Madden.

I have tried, for many years now, to understand why people insist on putting this man on the airwaves, usually during games I want to watch. Take for instance, my beloved Colts v. Bears this past Sunday. I, like any fan, can appreciate a sports commentator giving me good information about the game, the players, the coach, and other juicy tidbits of footballdom. However, I cannot and will not tolerate some 96 year old man telling me, "Well, here's a guy who's a quarterback, and what he needs to do is read that D and find the right receiver to get the ball." Really John? Is that the point of a quarterback? I could have sworn that I heard that somewhere, but thank you for bringing it to my attention. Please continue with your glorious explanation of what each person does on the field. "Well, here's a guy who's a tight end, making sure that he throws a block and then prepares for a short pass if the D is covering the other receivers." Ahhhhhhhhh, so that's what I tight end does. My mind must have been in the gutter. My bad.

Then there's his bus. Just call it the Clogged Artery. Madden and his ROBUST physique uses this bus to go from game to game every week. Sure, he does it because of understandable reasons, but I think it's because he can't fit in most seats in planes. It may also be because he would sit on the plane and say "Well, here's a gal who a stewardess, and she takes care of those flying on the plane, especially when I need a fourth meal on my 1-hour flight." "Here's a guy who's a pilot, and he needs to keep the plane moving before that Steel Curtain closes in!" Hate him, hate him, hate him.

And that pen. That damn pen. "Now, watch this guy here as he steps forward to throw the pass, then steps back, runs to the left, eyes the receivers, does a two-step to the 35, waves to his mother, kneels before God at the 38, and then gets sacked." Now, imagine that scene with some blubbering fool writing on the screen like Bill Cosby from Picture Pages.

If Brett Favre weren't married, Madden would have tried to play "Favre's Tight End" with him a long time ago. One would believe that Madden feasts on whole turkeys and gallons of 2% milk. While I believe he does that, I also believe that he maintains his sizable girth by eating football turf and washing it down with the tears of football fans who have finally broken down from all of the incessant blabber that flows out of his wordshoot. I wish he would start commentating on soccer in Europe...they wouldn't put up with his BS for a second before a riot ensued, tossing him out on the street and pelting him with health care waiting lists and goats.