In the first half of Monday night's game between the Green Bay Packers and the Seattle Seahawks, Aaron Rodgers was sacked an astounding eight times, prompting celebrations of the defensive achievement. Each one of the celebrations was unique and beautiful, like a snowflake. A violent, violent snowflake. Let us examine these celebrations ... together.
Here was the first celebration.
Elation. Jumping. Mockery of a touchdown dance that has become a shill for an insurance company. Fluorescent gloves.
(The second sack was a phantom sack, so there was no celebration, but credit was still given to the Seahawks because Rodgers had the misfortune to fall down in a silly manner and get laid upon.)
The third sack:
Jumping again. Surprise affection. A chest-bump that becomes a tender hug, followed by an aftershock chest-bump. Little pats on the helmet. Smiles for everyone. This is sweet and special.
The fourth celebration:
A slight tinge of the Hulk Hogan hand-to-the-ear is abandoned and a muscular pose is struck. By this time, childlike glee has yielded to stoic machismo. It is an interesting transition. The sacker has become an adult. Well, except for the guy falling down and doing a bear crawl of happiness.
The fifth sack:
Sophomoric and derivative. The sign of an artist attempting to find his way, but merely offering a retread of what we've heard before. The critics turn on him.
The sixth sack:
Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the auteur returns to form. "How could we ever have doubted you," the critics wail. We are sorry. We love you.
The seventh sack:
Like the majestic eagle, he soars. Oh, the majestic Seahawk. Sorry. Back to being repetitive, but only at the end. Celebrations are hard, but that smile is infectious.
The eighth and final sack (of the first half):
And at the end, we return to the state of infancy. Going out kicking and screaming, just like he came in. That's a line from a Garth Brooks song. It has no place here.