As you certainly saw on Sunday, this Super Bowl ad took classic TV shows and refashioned the characters as NFL fans. What you may have missed is that the lone Seahawks fan was none other than Ralph Wiggum:

Jon Axell writes:

New York and New England are where a lot of TV shows take place, so of course they’re fans of the Jets, Giants, Bills, and Patriots. And, of course, the teams playing in the actual game got featured using shows that take place in their home states (Happy Days and The Office).

The Falcons got a great shot of the General Lee flying their flag, jumping over a river. The Cowboys are Newman to the rest of the league’s Seinfeld.

But nothing stirs up more intrigue to a generation obsessed with placing themselves in fictional worlds (“Quiz: which Harry Potter house are you?” “Which classic Nicktoon are you?” “Which Star Wars character are you?”) than this gathering of Simpsons characters.

And there, front and center, munching on a candy bar, is Ralph Wiggum, the only representative for your Seattle Seahawks.

Still bitter about that 7-9 playoff berth, eh NFL?

It could have been worse. Frasier and Niles Crane in Seahawks gear would’ve been traumatic, and I just twitched thinking about Meredith Grey in a 12th Man jersey.

For those of you bored enough to follow my Twitter, you know that I was among the Seattle faithful at Qwest on Saturday, where the Seahawks became the only home team to win during Wild Card weekend. Longtime reader and commenter The Pirate Sloth has season tickets, and he kindly gave me one of his seats in the lower tier of the southern end zone (the one Marshawn Lynch assaulted his way into).

Saturday’s playoff game was the first sporting event I attended in years without trying to document and record things for future blogging use. My laptop was closed from Friday morning until I returned on Sunday night. I wrote nothing down at the game. I took almost no photos. I started drinking two and a half hours before kickoff and didn’t stop until beer sales ended after the third quarter. For the duration of the game, I was little more than a beer-powered air horn, shouting myself hoarse from the time the Saints offense huddled until they snapped the ball. When the Seahawks had the ball, I’d look up at the scoreboard and wonder what the hell was going on, and how long it could last before it fell apart.

I didn’t, of course, expect the Seahawks to win. Fandom is like religion: some people grow up with faith; some of us are skeptics who come to conclusions based on scientific evidence. This guy has faith:

(That’s a green 12 shaved into his head.)

I do not. The lively Saints fan behind me kept insisting that the Seahawks suck, and I couldn’t disagree given the regular season evidence. The best barb I could give her in the first half? “Have fun losing in Chicago next week.” She was, unfortunately, conspicuously absent halfway through the fourth quarter (Although she was preferable to the Seahawks fan who was yelling for Charlie Whitehurst to replace Matt Hasselbeck after ‘Beck’s deflected pass got intercepted. Holy shit, what a dumb bitch. NOBODY wants Charlie Whitehurst in the game).

Unfortunately, there’s not much more I can impart on the fan experience of being at home to watch your sub-.500 team knock the defending Super Bowl champions out of the playoffs. Qwest is loud, but you can hear that on TV. Some fans were dressed crazy, as some fans of every team do. Beast Mode’s touchdown, from the end zone, looked even more improbable and fantastic than it did on TV, though the stadium lacked the courtesy to show the replay the three thousand more times that we wanted.

So, this weekend the ‘Hawks travel to Chicago, and while anyone with eyes can see that the Bears are as terrible as an 11-5 team can be, I don’t have faith in Seattle’s ability to pull off another upset. I have hope, faith’s more intelligent younger brother. But not faith. The ‘Hawks are, after all, just an 8-9 team.

Or, as I like to think of them: the greatest losing team in NFL history.

Hate restores us. Hate focuses us. Hate keeps us warm at night and spoons us if we so desire it. And no time is hate more powerful – more necessary – than the postseason, when those we despise are so close to getting what they want. I don’t get what I want, so f*ck those guys. There are countless reasons to hate anyone. Some of which you might not be aware. Or been made to realize that they are worthy of scorn. Well, you came to the right place. Allow us to guide you to the darkest recesses of the soul, where the streets run dark green with bile and everyone knows your embarrassing nickname.

Oh, Seattle. You’ve really done nothing to deserve the grief we’re about to lay down on you. You’re just the northernmost major city of the United States, which nobody believes, because Maine is like totally up there on the map. Really, the worst thing you ever did was not killing Frasier.

And then I saw this…

Look at that. LOOK AT THAT SHIT. I don’t know what’s more amazing, that the Seahawks’ two sizes of beer cups hold the exact same amount of beer, or that people in Seattle actually drink beer. I mean…coffee? Sure. Heroin? Whatever. But beer? I expected better, Seattle. I really did.

I also expected better than 7-9. Your “NFC West Champs” shirts will be the new Che. But instead of hearing, “He was sort of a communist that killed a shitload of people” to “YOOOOOOU SUUUUUUUCK.” Kurt Cobain never would have stood for this. But then again, he wouldn’t recognize a good football team if it was cooking in his spoon.

And then there’s Matt Hasselbeck, that bald fuck with the bad back and the even worse arm…who somehow is starting today. Has Roger Goodell finally cleared Matt to play with a walker? Just hang it up already, holmes. Then you can get back to your other life’s ambition–killing Superman.

But I wouldn’t worry, Seattle, because in ten years, we’ll be watching the Oklahoma City Seahawks win four straight Super Bowls. But you’ll still have your coffee and your soccer team and gaggles of manically-depressed women. Good luck spending your Saturday nights getting pepper-sprayed at Barnes and Noble. But until then, enjoy being the San Diego Padres of football. You’ve got about three hours left to work that awkward boner of yours into an enjoyable west-coast lather, Seattle. Enjoy it while you can.

NOTE: we’ll be live-blogging the Sunday night game tonight, for better or worse. Likely worse.

So, this is historic, if there are historic records for mediocrity: the 7-8 Rams play the 6-9 Seahawks in Qwest for the NFC West Division title. The Rams seem on the rise, led by rookie Sam Bradford and an aggressive defense. The Seahawks are in trouble: Matt Hasselbeck is a game-time decision, and if Charlie Whitehurst starts, the Seattle defense gets downgraded from “anemic” to “Panthers.” However, if the Seahawks win, they will be the first sub-.500 team in modern NFL history to make the playoffs. If they lose, they’ll likely get a top-10 pick in the draft. WIN-WIN, BABY!

Meanwhile, there are two ten-win teams in the NFC who will miss the playoffs. Can we all be grown-ups and try not to complain about this too much? It’s unfortunate for the Buccaneers and Giants, but plenty of teams have finished 10-6 and not made the playoffs: the Browns in 2007, the Chiefs in 2005, the Dolphins in 2003, and both the Eagles and 49ers in 1991. (It even happened to the Seahawks in 1986, but that was when the playoff system regularly screwed 10-6 teams, so the comparison isn’t very apt.)

I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry the NFC West sucks. There are more worthy teams for the playoffs, but the NFC West has to send ONE team, and this is as close to a real rivalry as the NFC West can give us. This may not have the hatred you see in the NFC East, but I can assure you all that I hate the Rams more than any team but the Steelers. I get ill thinking about the highlights that NBC is sure to dredge up tonight: the 2004 season, in which the 9-7 Seahawks won the division (losing twice to the Rams in the process, once in overtime) but lost to the 8-8 Rams in the first round of the playoffs, 27-20, when Bobby Engram dropped a pass in the end zone to end the game. Can’t wait to relive that one! Guhhhhhhhhh.

Guhhhhhhhh for all of us, really. But at least Saints fans can enjoy it: next week, New Orleans will deliver a deserved ass-whipping to the winner of this game. So there’s that. Now let’s get through this.

THE BLOODBUZZ OHIO THAT IS THE ARIZONA CARDINALS

Key Additions: RESPECT!, Horse Balls, Alan Faneca

Key Departures: Anquan Boldinbot, Kurt Warner’s drawing of Jesus

Five Fast Facts About The Cardinals
- Jay Feely came out vociferously in support of Arizona’s contentious immigration law. Because who wants possibly accurate kickers to be coming into this country? I’M WATCHING YOU ZENDEJAS!
- Derek Anderson isn’t so much a flash in the pan as rancid grease that was once useful in cooking, but has since congealed, begun to smell and ate your dog.
- Having taken his public ribbing of Albert Haynesworth too far, Darnell Dockett owes the world an apology when Albert takes to the shower for comedic revenge on Dockett.
- Alan Faneca says triceratops definitely exist because he is one and he’ll be damned if you deny him.
- LaRod Stephens-Howling Dominique Rodgers-Cromartie Armin Mueller-Stahl Soleil Moon Frye The End

Vegas Over/Under for 2010: 7.5 wins

Verdict: UNDER

Sorry, brahs. Relevance was fun while it lasted.

SAN FRANCISCO 49ERS

Key Additions: Ted Ginn Jr., David Carr WHAT A HAUL! C’MON, LEAVE SOME FOR EVERYBODY ELSE!

Key Departure: Isaac Bruce (possibly dead)

Five Fast Facts About The 49ers:
- Jehuu Caulcrick will be the mayor of Gristledown Junction, if ever the rusticated podunk I have imagined just for his name becomes reality.
- I realize Vernon Davis was raised in the D.C. area, but someday a benevolent soul is gonna sit the youngblood down and inform him that other cities indeed have strippers, too. And good ones at that!
- Guard Tony Wragge isn’t aware of oncoming danger unless he hears a “ruh roh”.
- Taylor Mays is tailor made for ban punny headlines.
- After Glen Coffee watches one of those Foundation For a Better Life commercials, he momentarily pines for a wholesome life of substance before setting his pile of gasoline-soaked Bible-clutching dead fetuses on fire with an already lit dead hooker .

Vegas Over/Under for 2010: 8.5 wins

Verdict: OVER

Despite very clearly being a quarterback away from contending for several years now, the 49ers are content to keep bringing baby hands Alex Smith back for another try. This year he’ll be joined by fellow no. 1 overall bust David Carr. All they need now is JaMarcus to be brought in to fill out the trio. At the same time, the rest of the division is truly horrid. So unless the Seahawks turn out to be much better than Pete Carroll’s NFL history and broken down Matt Hasselbeck would lead me to expect, the Niners are the call here.

SEATTLE SEAHAWKS

“Let’s see a NCAA compliance officer STOP THIS!”

Key Additions: Leon Washington, Golden Tate

Key Departures: Patrick Kerney, Walter Jones, Nate Burleson

Five Fast Facts About The Seahawks:
- Lawyer Milloy is the only player on the roster to have played for Carroll during his last stint as a pro coach. He’s having fun capturing the “before” expressions of his teammates.
- Charlie Whitehurst is the name of a shitty transitional quarterback if ever I heard one. That said, keep an eye on UFL CHAMPION J.P. LOSMAN!
- Oh, the indignity! Matt Hasselbeck had to take a drug test during the offseason. And there was a man in the room! And the toilet wasn’t festooned with gold leaf and cherub wings! Rose petals did not issue forth! SAVE HIM, WON’T YOU, ANDY HUTCHINS!?
- This team deprived us the chance to see what “swaggerjack” inventor LenDale White’s Madden swagger rating would be. May none of you ever get a Top Pot maple bar again.
- Sean Morey retired two days before the start of training camp. Woohoo! One fewer player from Brown for Berman to dribble his sausage gravy cum all over the ESPN news crawl.

Vegas Over/Under For 2010: 7.5 wins

Verdict: UNDER

Stupid half win, smugly preventing me from giving them the push at 7-9 this roster so richly deserves. Nevertheless, I could be completely off base and the Seahawks, as opposed to the 49ers, could be lucky NFC West team to eke out eight or nine wins to secure the right to host a first-round home playoff loss. We’ll see how the drama unfolds.

ST. LOUIS RAMS

Key Additions: Sam Bradford, TAX CHEAT MARTYR-NAMED MOOSLIM MAJORITY OWNER Shahid Kahn

Key Departure: Marc Bulger (had to put something here).

Five Fast Facts About The Rams:
- They held a contest to rename their mascot. They did not chose Randy “The Ram” Robinson. FOR SHAMMMEEEE!
- Tackle Joe Gibbs will block for the counter trey on every play, even field goal attempts. AND THEY WILL LOVE HIM FOR IT IN THE DMVEEE, COOCH!
- Mardy Gilyard is only doing the NFL receiver thing until his half hat company takes off.
- Keith Null in set formation remains a rare crossover math/football meme.
- In an ironic twist, I am overpursuing a Chris Hovan punchline.

Vegas Over/Under For 2010: 5 wins

Verdict: UNDER

They bad.

Everything bad that ever happened or will happen to Brian Bosworth is completely deserved.

(img via)

So, yeah. Pete Carroll made a Funny or Die video ostensibly about leaving USC for the Seahawks (for a charitable purpose). As a Seahawks fan, my knee-jerk reaction was a cross between fury and eye-rolling… but there are actually a couple laughs in here. I like Rob Riggle and that girl from “Parks and Recreation” who isn’t Rashida Jones, and even Carroll has some okay comic timing. I just hope he’s better at coaching than acting.

Oh God. He’s going to suck, isn’t he?

(Aboard Paul Allen’s 414-foot yacht)

(interior of a room filled with money)

Paul Allen: (into intercom) Warburton, the money room.

Warburton: You rang, sir?

Allen: Warburton, when was the last time I was briefed on my minor assets?

Warburton: You mean your million-dollar assets, sir? Or your multi-million dollar assets?

Allen: Multi.

Warburton: Three months, sir.

Allen: Then fill me in.

Warburton: Sir, your Portland TrailBlazers are presently worth more than four times what you paid for the franchise; the $10 million prize you got for SpaceShipOne has been successfully re-invested in your other holdings; the real estate development in South Lake Union is treading water during the economic downturn… and there’s some turmoil in the management of the Seahawks.

Allen: See whose now?

Warburton: The Seahawks, sir. Your professional football team.

Allen: Oh, of course. I apologize, I’ve just been so busy with the robot army. (into microphone) Camera 57, show robot army.

Allen: Look at them, Warburton. Hundreds upon hundreds of them, ready to do my bidding as soon as we make them more efficient killers. Aren’t they beautiful?

Warburton: Very, sir.

Allen: Now then. Where were we?

Warburton: The Seahawks.

Allen: Right, the Seahawks. What’s the problem? Does the stadium need to be louder? We can make the stadium louder. Each of my robots can realistically replicate the sound of human yelling at 135 decibels. That’s like a jet taking off, Warburton! Imagine if a human could make that sound!

Warburton: The stadium noise is fine, sir.

Allen: Oh.

Warburton: It’s the management, Mr. Allen. The team’s general manager resigned in the middle of the season, and the new coach led the team to a 5-11 record in his first year on the job.

Allen: And what’s your assessment?

Warburton: Mr. Ruskell was a middling to above-average GM. No Bosworths, at least. Mr. Mora, well… I’m not sure he’s the answer.

Allen: Then dispose of him.

Warburton: Very well, sir. Breathing or bloody?

Allen: He may live. And what about replacements? Does this pissant sporting organization allow robot coaches?

Warburton: I believe not, sir.

Allen: Can we level the playing field by destroying the other teams with robots?

Warburton: Not legally, sir.

Allen: Christ, it’s like working with the Amish. Okay, then. I suppose we’ll need to find a viable human replacement. Bring some candidates in with the helicopter.

Warburton: Very good, sir. Would that be the golden helicopter?

Allen: Oh, the regular one’s fine. (sets $100 bill on fire, uses it to light rolled-up Picasso ink sketch on fire, uses that to light Cuban cigar) It’s a recession, don’t you know.

ONE DAY LATER

Warburton: Sir, I’ve rounded up the best candidates available. They’re waiting outside to see you.

Allen: Marvelous. Send Doctor Markovitz from M.I.T. in first.

Warburton: I apologize, sir. I didn’t realize M.I.T. had a football program. If I’d known…

Allen: Oh, is this for the Seahawks thing? I thought you meant the candidates for Chief Robotics Engineer! Ha, of course. Me and my robot army again. I apologize. Send the first candidate in.

Warburton: Very well, sir.

(door flies open)

Pete Carroll: BEEEYAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!! Hey howya doin’ Paul Allen! Great to meet ya! Great ship you got! Hope you don’t mind I brought some girls! You want some girls?! I don’t need ‘em! Figured you could have ‘em! You want ‘em?! Take ‘em!

Allen: Warburton, find these women some swimsuits. Show them to the pool.

Warburton: Right away, sir.

Allen: And Warburton–

Warburton: Yes, sir?

Allen: Bikinis. Skimpy.

Warburton: Nothing but, sir. (women leave)

Allen: Now, Mr. Carroll, tell me what you can do for the Seattle Seahawks.

Carroll: I’ll tell you this, Paul Allen! The Seahawks got down on themselves this year! They suffered from LOW MORALE! Low morale’s not a problem on a Pete Carroll team! I had an .864 winning percentage at USC, two national championships, and sunshine beaming from my players’ hearts like the warm southern California sun! And if the team ever got a little down, then by God I took them out for bowling! Bowling and ice cream!

Allen: Oh, I rather like ice cream.

Carroll: How about a scoop o’ Neapolitan right now! Always keep some with me, just in case! My players always tell me I have a Neapolitan complex! HA!

Allen: That would be lovely, thank you. (takes ice cream) Mr. Carroll, I enjoy your vigor and enthusiasm. And also your ice cream. I think I’d like you to be the next coach of the Seahawks. And my personal ice cream supplier.

Carroll: That sounds great! One thing though! I always said I wouldn’t go back to the NFL unless I got to control a team’s personnel, too!

Allen: You mean the GM? Oh, that works nicely. We need one of those as well. Wait — “back to the NFL”? You’ve coached in the NFL before?

Carroll: Uh… no! No I haven’t! So whaddaya say? How about 4 years, $20 million?!

Allen: Six years, $32.5 million. That’s my final offer.

Carroll: SOLD!

Allen: Warburton! Draw up the contract for our new coach here.

Warburton: And what of the other candidates, sir?

Allen: Eh, toss ‘em in the ocean with some chum. Do you want to see how sharks eat, Coach?

Carroll: DO I!

Allen: Tell me, what are your feelings about robots?

FIVE MINUTES LATER

Gruden: THAT SHARK THERE, I CALL HIM “THE BONE SHREDDER.”

Cowher: Shut up.

Whoa, whoa, whoa… tickets are still available to the Lions-Seahawks game this Sunday because Detroit fans aren’t going to make the trip? But this is the weekend’s premiere matchup between a 1-6 team and a 2-5 team! Hell, the last time these two teams faced off, the final score was 9-6! Barns: burned. WHEEEEEE!!!

Longtime readers of this site know that I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with aging white safety Brian Russell — in that I would love it if he died, because I hate him. But ever since the gritty veteran (read: slow and talentless) got cut by the Seahawks, I no longer wish him death.

Instead, I want him signed on a week-to-week basis by whomever the Seahawks play on Sunday. The animated GIF above shows Russell in his new Jacksonville threads getting blown up by Justin Forsett, Seattle’s 5’8″, 194-pound third-string running back — possibly my favorite highlight in a 41-0 ass-stomping that involved four passing touchdowns, a defensive touchdown, and the self-bloodied visage of psycho hillbilly Owen Schmitt.

Delicious schadenfreude, or deliciousest schadenfreude? Oh, deliciousest for sure. Your failure sustains me, Russell.

[via Field Gulls]