Super Dog Bowl XLIII

The stadium seating allowed for the best vantage point. Not even NBC's 'CEE It zoom super powerfully slow slow motion camera' could have given a clearer picture of what unfolded. These dogs, natural casing of course, snapped crackled and popped all the down into the belly. There they sat quiet and content until certain processes moved them along.

So as I watched Kurt Warner accept the NFL's greatest human on the planet award, I smiled and buried my face in yet another chili cheese dripping, mustard, ketchup and relish soaked Super Dog. All this to forget the hilarious coincidence. Just to think, good ol' Kurt gave his time, precious and sacred as that is, to something other than football or his wife and that now, on the day that they typically present the award, he is actually playing! Thus, I was most confident Kurt Warner's story was a super story. I appreciate Warner most of all for his tremendously toothy grin, and evenly colored hair, and of course his super story. But that super story just had to be tarnished. When twinkle toes came down with that catch in the corner of the endzone Kurt sprouted, not one, not two, but at least three gray hairs. So it would end up that Warner's seemingly airtight super story would go the rout of a simple super dog, devoured, and never to be heard from again. Sorry Kurt, you were so close.