Baltimore’s Ray Lewis has been a superb NFL player for 17 seasons. I wish he would take a lesson from the Seahawks’ Marshawn Lynch and just shut the hell up.
Since he won’t . . . go, 49ers.
As with most national holidays, the Super Bowl mandates some sort of worship – God, Santa, flag, ground hog, flightless bird. So I will kneel Sunday before the Evil Harbaugh Brother and beseech whoever’s in charge of football outcomes that Lewis’s grill gets so filled with, say, 49ers running back Frank Gore, that he is unable to speak in post-game interviews to blame God for the loss (which he would feel obligated to do, since it is God who, according to Lewis, is ushering the Ravens to the sporting pinnacle Sunday).