Ask any neutral observer for the worst way for a close NFL game to end and they’ll all lay out the exact same scenario: one team has the ball at point-blank range in the red zone and full command of the clock. They don’t have to score a touchdown. They don’t have to sweat out a field goal from 45-plus yards out. They don’t have to worry about scoring too quickly and handing possession back over to the other guys. They can just do an advanced victory formation for a down or two before rendering the outcome academic. Kickers don’t make the game-winning 27-yarder 100 percent of the time, but they make them often enough to make this scenario both predictable and dull. So, so fucking dull. Last night’s Super Bowl between the Eagles and Chiefs didn’t have to end this way. But thanks to referee Carl Cheffers and his asshole officiating crew, it did.
There was a better ending to be had. If Cheffers and his men kept their flags holstered on this play—and no one outside of Kansas City would have batted an eyelash if they had—we would have been treated to the a similarly perfunctory Harrison Butker field goal, but with enough time left on the clock for Jalen Hurts and the Eagles to mount one final, dramatic charge. That’s what you and I came here for, and that’s what this game deserved, especially after we had already been treated to tedious, persnickety reversals of DeVonta Smith catching a long bomb and Chiefs linebacker Nick Bolton’s second fumble return for a touchdown.
Instead, we got a fucking flag. Do you know how much it will suck to remember that flag anytime I think of this game? Our own Ray Ratto said to never mind how last night ended, but that’s easier said than done when the NFL is content to let its games be defined more by what didn’t happen than what did, and when they condition fans and media alike to adopt Ultimate Cop Brain and see fire in any wisp of smoke. Everything is set up for the refball to take over just when you don’t want it to. And for the second Super Bowl in a row, that’s exactly what happened. I got the least amount of suspense extracted from that final minute, and Roger Goodell and his sweater collection deserve to burn in hell for it.
For the record, I know that Eagles corner James Bradberry copped to that penalty after the fact. If you wanna use that as your evidence that actually the end of that game was terrific, good for you. Bet you loved the Seahawks calling that slant route against the Pats, too. The world is your oyster. Go beat off.
The Eagles said all the things that good sports say after that kind of loss: the foul was a foul, you can’t let it come down to one call, we needed to play better the whole game, and hey hats off to Kansas City because they played a helluva game. I can know all of those things are true while joining LeBron James, Albert Brooks, and Greg Olsen in telling the NFL, Yeah but fuck all that. That’s my right as a fan.
Because the NFL is a television show, first and foremost. The success and infrastructure of entire media companies rest on this fact. So I accept all of the football reasons why the Eagles lost—celebrate it even, because Eagles fans are the scum of the fucking earth—but I still resent that ending from a sheer entertainment standpoint. Flags are bad television. Especially when they come at the end of a game. Especially when they’re in the grayest of areas. And especially when I was ready for something much more interesting to happen. The Eagles still probably would have lost to the Chiefs had that flag never been thrown, but I’d have preferred to watch THEM lose it in that final minute, rather than have a side adjudicator step in before they had the chance to go OPE SORRY PARTY’S OVER YOU HAVE TO GO TO BED NOW.
I’d prefer to remember this as the game where Patrick Mahomes won his second title on one leg and 25 shots of Toradol, and where Andy Reid outclassed yet another young head coach eager to outshine him, where a pregnant Rihanna slightly disappointed me by not jumping from one floating platform to another like Super Mario, and where the vaunted Eagles’ O-line couldn’t keep Jalen Hurts from sprinting backwards on every other passing down. I’d prefer to remember this as one of the greatest Super Bowls I’ve ever seen. And rest assured, the NFL will hope that time heals the wound enough for me to do that. But before that slow-motion whitewash begins in earnest, I just want it down for the record: that call was horseshit, and it ruined everything. Fuck the refs, fuck Roger Goodell, and fuck you if you were down with it.
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