Super Bowl Sunday, boys and girls, and you know what that means: It's time for the Blob's official prediction(s), because everyone else is doing it so why shouldn't I?
("Because your predictions are always wrong and lame and not funny?" you're saying).
Well, that may be. But I've covered me some Super Bowls, sonny. I've seen some things. I know what I know, or at least what I think.
I think on this day, Peyton Manning will do some Peyton Manning things and Cam Newton will do some Cam Newton things, and these will involve football in some way, and also selling stuff in wondrous and humorous ways.
(Well, except for Helen Mirren lecturing drunk drivers in that Bud ad).
I think Greg Olsen will do Greg Olsen things but not necessarily Rob Gronkowski things, and, that, at some point, Peyton will look at Emmanuel Sanders and say "You go long,"
(Yeah, he will. Because apparently he threw a few accurate downfield rockets in practice this week, and that's how I think the Broncos will catch the Panthers D looking).
I think the halftime show will be Coldsore or Coldcream or something like that, and also Beyoncé. And even if Coldsore or Coldcream or whoever is completely awesome, everyone will still hate it.
(OK, so not everyone. But some people will. Some people always do, because they are haters and they hate everything).
I think Von Miller and DeMarcus Ware will do Von Miller things and DeMarcus Ware things, and that will cause Cam to do some un-Cam things, like get sacked at least once and throw at least one pick.
(Although it probably won't be a pick six. I don't think. Hell, I don't know).
I think, in the end, the Panthers win the game, 24-13, because I think everyone's talking up Denver's defense while forgetting how good Carolina's is, and so the Broncos will struggle more to score against the Carolina D slightly more than the Panthers will struggle against the Denver D. Cam will make at least a couple big plays to turn the game but he'll have to make one fairly late because I think it will be tight into the fourth quarter.
Maybe. Or not. Hell, I don't know.
("'Hell, I don't know?' What kind of lame crap is that?" you're saying).