The Master and his students were sitting in their man cave at the monastery watching the endless hours of pregame shows before the Super Bowl was to begin. "Master," one of the students, a dimwitted boy-child from the nearby foothills, asked, "do the pregame shows really lead us on the path to enlightenment?"

The Master did not speak for what seemed like an eternity, but was really only a few seconds of commercial television time. Finally, the Master spoke. "There is clarity to be found in the fog of blather that knows no boundaries of time. Let the pass-rush defense babble and the yap-yap about terrible towels be ceaseless until you yourself feel suspended in time and space."

Hearing that the dimwitted one stared at the crackling flames of the fireplace, then spoke again. "This time-space thingy you speak of, this will push us farther along the path, Master?" The teacher nodded. "And you, Master, being further along the path than we are, will you be that much closer to enlightenment?"

"Yes, but only if the Packers cover the spread."