Super Bowl VII was played 14 January 1973 in Los Angeles and won by the Miami Dolphins over the Washington Redskins 14-7. Back in those days, the game was played between the champions of the American and National Football Conferences, and Miami was undefeated that year. There was a big flap caused by the unconditional blackout-protocol ordered by the television folks for the location where the game was played. This caused a furor in LA because the tickets were all sold, and finally the powers-that-were relented. The issue rose all the way to the White House. This appeared in the Danville Advocate-Messenger, Danville, Ky., of 02 January 1973.

In the land of the Nattering Nabobs, effete snobs, and poor Working slobs, there once were Weekly Sunday-afternoon Crunch Festivals called “Mobs out to Murder Other Mobs for Much Money.” (otherwise known as professional football) Now gobs of mobs of slobs, snobs, And nabobs gleefully trooped into The Crunchpits on every Sunday to Watch the mobbery maneuvering that Manipulated the muddlers into Massive masochisms of mobviolence. But there were mobs of millions and Millions of mobs who couldn’t hack It to the Crunchpits on Sunday Because they lived great distances From the metropolitan mob madhouses Known as the Crunchpit Centers. And so these backcountry crunchfans Living in the muddy, murky mazes Outside mainstream mobberyland had To content themselves with popping Their peepers on the Sunday crunchaction By tuning in the miserably marvelous Mayhem on the trusty boob-tube. Now this was okay with this boob- Tube mob, whether they viewed the Vivid violence at their plush Pleasant pads or gaped at the gruesome Grapplers, with their elbows in the Suds at the bars which TV’ed the Brawny, brawling bruisers. Besides, Instant replay gave them a twice or Thrice slice of the action instead Of a solitary sight. Also, passionately Eye-popping the whole magnificent Menagerie of muscle-mangling was a Lot cheaper that way. But the crunchfans living in the crunchpit Centers who couldn’t hack It to the weekly Sunday sadism Showtime because they were victims of Stadium-seat sellout were also Victims of boob-tube blackout. Now This was not okay with this mobberyland Boob-tube mob. And so they bewailed Their beef to the Crunch-league Leaders only to find their bawling and Bewailing to no availing. It seems The corporate consensus of the Crunch-league constituency was that Great gobs of greenbacks would be Lost if the blackout on the beefy Brawling were even briefly barred.

And so this sad state of demoralizing Undemocratic and dastardly discrimination Against crunchpit-center citizenry Went on for years, until one day a rabid Crunchfan succeeded to the highest office In the land of the slobs, snobs, and Nabobs – the office of GRUNCH. Coincidentally, the new Grunch, whose Name was Sir Richard the Nixonite, was The number-one crunchfan of the Capitol Crunchteam, known as the Thickskins. Indeed, he was known to give free Advice to the Skins, but one year they Had a winning season anyhow. And so The surprising Skins made the Crunch- League First Flight Fight Festival, Popularly known as the Playoffs. But, alas! Most of the Capitol City Crunchfan citizens were to be denied A look at their tough, tireless, Triumphant Thickskins in action… Because of the boob-tube blackout! So distressed at this sad state of Capitol Crunchery was ticketless Grunch Richard that he begged the Crunch High Council to rescind the Boob-tube blackout. But, alas! His Pleas were perniciously and perfunctorily And permanently poohed. So indignant was grieving Grunch Richard at This awful affront that, vowing Righteous revenge, he appeared one January morning, after the First Flight Fight Festival Finale, before the High Councils of government to proclaim That all crunchpits throughout the Land would henceforth and forevermore Be restricted to mumblety-peg tournaments Only provided, of course, that there be No boob-tube mumblety-peg blackout. Thus, it came to pass in the crunchpits That the only muscles that mattered from That day forward were the knife-flinging Finger-flappers and the masticating Mouth-molar manipulators. The Crunch Festivals were no more. And that is how in the land of the nattering Nabobs, effete snobs, and Poor working slobs, GRUNCH RICHARD The NIXONITE stole football. It was Sort of a crunch by the GRUNCH.