Super Bowl Action

As I write this, the silence surrounding the National Football League is deafening.

The stadiums are calm, with only the echoes of past conquests reverberating through the corridors. The talk radio lines are full of the excited whispers of eager fans. There is no clamoring for the backup. There are no coaches blowing gaskets in media sessions. And the talking heads are nearly out of stupid questions (for now).

Hope.

It's like Christmas Eve, New Year's Day, and that 15 minutes after Confession rolled into one. Right now everyone's record is perfect. There have no blown assignments or missed calls. No one has dropped a pass or mismanaged the clock during a two-minute drill.

Hope.

At this moment, endless possibility is coursing through the veins of all 32 teams in the NFL. Right now, players and fans across the nation are sitting somewhere thinking, "This is our year" or "Why not us?" Anyone can be the next Warner or Roethlisberger or Brady. Anyone can be a champion.

Hope.

But it won't last. It can't. Come Monday morning it will all have changed. The menacing vibrations will have overwhelmed the silence. Pride and desperation will sink in, and so many people will be wretched back into reality. Nature will take its course, and the fittest will survive.