The Morning After
Yesterday was, as every real American knows, the Super Bowl.
This morning I awoke in a cold, dark place. I was still wearing my Bronco jersey. It was dripping with sweat. I was curled in a fetal position.
“Al, don’t you have to be in court today?” Sugar disturbed my focus on my deep depression.
“Sugar, I am sure the courthouse will be closed and the flags at half mast on this sad day. Remember, the Broncos lost the game. I am in mourning.”
“Well, maybe the judge and your client and opposing counsel did not take it as hard as you have.”
“How dare you, woman! Of course they feel as sad as I do. I am in no condition to be in court. I have to watch the game films. I have to talk to Coach Fox about my role on next year’s team. Peyton and Champ won’t retire and neither will I. We are a team.”
“Well, they probably got out of bed and in case the judge did too, maybe you should swing by the courthouse on your way to Bronco headquarters at Dove Valley. You know, to verify that the courthouse is closed.”
So I went to the courthouse wearing my official NFL-licensed Peyton Manning Bronco jersey — #18. To my surprise, it was open. I went to the courtroom where my case was to be heard. The judge was in his robes. Opposing counsel was wearing a suit and tie.
“Judge, I need a brief continuance so I can go home to get a tie, unless you will waive that silly rule about courtroom attire.”
“Normally, as you know, I enforce that rule, but for you, Mr. Manning, I will make an exception.”
“Thank you, your Honor. I am on my way to Dove Valley, so if you don’t mind, I waive my right to present evidence and would like to proceed to my closing argument.”
“Actually, I am ready to rule. You win!”
The other lawyer objected. The judge over-ruled the objection.
Sure, there might be an appeal. Go ahead, make my day! Who do they think they are dealing with?