ODE TO BERNIE KUKAR

What’s your problem, you over-compensated narcissist? You’re supposed to be the uniform of fairness! But instead, you use your position to capture the limelight. You ol’ scene stealer, you! If you look closely enough, there could be a holding penalty called on any given play, even a kickoff. But you, for whatever reason, decided before the game that only MY team would commit holding penalties today. It’s not because the other team is better, or that my team is making all the mistakes. No. It’s because you blindly hate me, Mr. Bernie Kukar. Me, and my New York Football Giants. Have I ever offended you in any way? As far as I know, the only conversing I’ve had with you has been through a television screen, albeit not as one-sided of conversations as one would assume. Perhaps it’s the Giants you have issues with. Does dwarfism run in your family? Did you get made fun of as a child for being short? You seem to be pretty tall to me, so perhaps there are other “shortcomings” you are venting over?
It’s hard enough as a Giants fan to hope your team will overcome a deficit late in the game and stake a comeback, but whenever YOU’RE the ref that’s when all the flags start flying! That wasn’t pass interference, the pass went sailing into the stands! Illegal defense?!?! What the hell is that? Did the turf suddenly turn into hardwood?
So I now look to you during one of the most promising seasons for the Giants in quite awhile, and can only hope that whatever their fate is lies in their own hands, not your back pocket. I raise my flag to you, my white flag, Bernie Kukar, in the hopes that you can drop this foolish tirade of big blue hate and let us fairly play out our own destiny.