TAMPA — This morning, as the whole world watched on TV, an irate Tampa Bay football die-hard supporter fired a metaphorical yet blistering cannonball barrage across the bow of the mighty NFL. Manley Mann, a Hemann High history teacher, self-described manic football fanatic, and take-no-prisoners Head Pirate of the Buccaneer Banzai Fan Club, launched the withering attack.
Mann, one-wooden-legged hopping mad, appeared on the Tampa Rants sports talk show in full pirate regalia, complete with smoking rags and incense tied to his long dark beard. After hoisting a Jolly Roger—the flag of impending doom—Mann delivered a vehement diatribe about how his beloved team’s 2009 season was shoved off the plank into Davy Jones’s Locker. His culprit? An incessant barrage of rally-killing penalty flags.
Transcript of Mann’s Televised Tirade
Yaaarrrrhhh, football. ‘Tis America’s pastime. A real man’s sport where huge, manly muscled men be attackin’ one another hell-bent on mutual annihilatin’. A game where a rampagin’ ball hauler be only stopped by th’ brutal, lethal combinin’ of his enemy’s strength, smarts, and speed.
Except’n, shiver me timbers, when he’s bein’ keelhauled by a flyin’ pansy-yellow-hanky penalty flag!
That’s right, me sports fan mateys. Me rigorous analysis of th’ past season’s Bucs football games be showin’ that a whoppin’ 50% of me Buckos’ big plays be nullified by th’ scurvy dog referees a-throwin’ penalty flags. Avast Ye NFL Scallywags!
It be bilge-suckin’ high time fer ye NFL rules makers be hangin’ this annoyin’, enragin’, momentum-breakin’, game-lengthenin’, entertainment-killin’ practice from the yardarm. Me very enjoyment of a game, bein’ live or TV, be a-gettin’ hornswaggled by them poxed, pillagin’ wimpy colored hankies.
What’s we t’ do, then? How’s we t’ be takin’ th’ seadogs’ game back from th’ squiffy refs in their dainty Capri pants and their girly hanky tossin’?
Two things. First, let’s ye be changin’ th’ rules and a-gettin’ rid of bunches of them lesser scurrilous-type penalties, like end-zone celebratin’, illegal formationin’, and blockin’ in the back. Then, it’s best ye be replacin’ most of th’ remainin’ would-be penalties with whoppin’ fines a-be assessed after the skirmish be ended.
Let’s ye be makin’ a committee of yer uptight-most, evil librarian-type rules enforcers. Have ‘em be a-watchin’ th’ film after every game, then be imposin’ ball-bustin’ fines ‘stead of a-callin’ them in-game penalties.
Let’s ye be makin’ th’ cost of th’ fines so dear that no player be ever committin’ th’ same foul again. Be a-makin’ th’ fines’ amounts a-be escalatin’ by severity of the misbehavin’.
Me say, parchance, a $100,000 fine fer jumpin’ offside be soon eliminatin’ that addled mistake and flag-inducin’ game stoppin’. A one-game-salary fine fer them really dangerous violations, like hittin’ late or knee-breakin’ crack-back blocks, be certain a-be both cleanin’ up and speedin’ up ye games.
These simple changes’d be allowin’ th’ flow of th’ game, and everybody’s yo-ho-hos, a-be continuin’ uninterrupted. Methinks me grog then be a lots better tastin’.
Ye savvy, ye shark bait NFL cap’ns? Best ye belay the gay hanky-droppin’ football era and be givin’ America back the fast-paced, gruntin’, he-man excitement we fans be really a-hankerin’ fer. Best ye be returnin’ the dainty hanky to its God-intended snot collectin’.
Elstwise, we millions of fans be revoltin’, jumpin’ ship, and ‘stead start a-watchin’ a real blood-and-guts action-packed sport, like ye saucy lassies’ basketball. Yaaarrrhhh.
(An earlier version of this article appeared on HumorVolcano.com.)