And verily did the archangels who sit on the ruling council of
the League of Extraordinary Parity grow ever more wrathful, and lo
did they fume in their luxury boxes at the sight before them. For
year after year did the San Francisco 49ers prosper beyond all
reason as though through some devilish sleight-of-hand, producing
exceptional quarterbacks as rabbits produce, umm, well, more
rabbits.
And verily did the archangels who sit on the ruling council of the League of Extraordinary Parity grow ever more wrathful, and lo did they fume in their luxury boxes at the sight before them. For year after year did the San Francisco 49ers prosper beyond all reason as though through some devilish sleight-of-hand, producing exceptional quarterbacks as rabbits produce, umm, well, more rabbits. And yea did their running backs and wide receivers exceed all expectations beyond their allotted years.
“Where is the parity?” they cried. “Lo have we wrought mighty deeds to equalize the league so that every market will achieve playoff success within a reasonable time. Verily have we installed a free agency system guaranteed to ruin any team as soon as it becomes successful; how hast these 49ers escaped us and how can we bring them down?”
And the evil archangel called Carmen Policy spoke up: “I have sown the seeds of their destruction, my lords. In my years with that team I arranged to overspend its budget like a President with an unnecessary war, and now we can consign them to salary-cap Hell. Parity will be safe.”
And lo, the team was plunged down, down into the depths of Hell, where all the denizens were mediocre and prone to injuries, while its remaining treasure was spirited away to former players with which to open car dealerships and fitness centers. And pitifully did the coach wander in the depths moaning, “All my predecessors stretching back into the mists of time feasted on Super Bowl trophies, and I am given a junior varsity team with which to labor. Verily shall the fans hurl insults and overripe vegetables at me as I take the field.”
And humbly did the coach pray to the Lord, saying “Lord, send me guidance.” And the Lord answered him saying, “I’m going to put you on hold while I page Job. Please stay on the line; your call is important to us.” And after the passing of an age of man did the coach hear the golden words, “Job here – whattup?” And lo did the coach pour his heart out, lamenting “How can the fans sticketh with us so we can finally build a worthy stadium to replace the Ashtray By The Bay? How can the tailgate parties in the parking lot go on when week after week we stinketh up the place?”
And Job wisely did say, “Patience, my son – be of good cheer; the fans will stay, for where are they gonna go? I mean, it’s not like they’re gonna turn into Raider fans. Any Niner fan would rather drive a stake through Al Davis’s heart than root for his team, and no Raider fan would let your chardonnay-swilling followers join them anyway. So just sit in the ashes like a good boy, try to find the humor in a 2-and-14 season, and behold, the League of Extraordinary Parity will provide.”
And verily, after a reasonable time, up in the luxury boxes the archangels did predictably cry out, “How heart-rending to see the plight of the penitent 49ers; where is the parity? We must tweak the rules yet again, we must restore the balance, we must……”
