Dear Football Loving Touchdown Jesus.
We thank you O’ Lord for blessing this season with a superbowl appearance for the mighty monsters of the midway. We humble ourselves before you by not consuming grain alcohol before noon on this O’ holy day. And we remove our orange “C” encrusted caps during your divinely inspired national anthem and Chicago fight songs.
Wondrous and mighty touchdown Jesus, please protect our beloved team from your beloved town, which is known for its polish sausage, who’s name starts with a “C”, ends in an “O” and has a “hicag” in the middle.
And we repent of our unbelief after Walter retiring and the firing of Ditka. We wavered in the absence of your mighty warrior of the sacred touchdown and the Superbowl Moses of the this great city on the lake. We know now that you were testing us and were growing our character by keeping us from the promised land of an 80’s dynasty, and you were rising up a new prophet for your army of first-downs. We thank you and praise your holy name for keeping us from our own pride.
Firey lord of miraculous come-backs, we pray in your name against the spirit of awesome that Peyton Manning sold his soul for. We know that he could never have defeated Tom Brady, Bill Belichik, and the rest of the Patriots, and displayed the ability to not choke in an AFC title game without selling something to the dark lord. We pray that you take back that territory for your name by allowing Brian Urlacher to wield the sword of justice in the form of a mighty sack to remove his pride from him.
Compassionate one who claps for injured players who walk off the field, we pray that you bless our compatriots who have gone to see you prior to witness this greats of moments 21 years in the making.
For yours is the league, the salary cap, and tithe from ad revenues forever,
Amen