Heady times, that fateful January morning when eagle-eyed football fans discovered the Seattle Seahawks engaged in an act so nefarious, so unsporting, it threatened to tear apart the very fabric of the NFL—nay, of America. The wounds have healed now, the fractures set, but the emotional scars linger. Why, it seems like it was only just exactly an hour ago...
Wedgegate, most called it. Wedgeghazi, proffered others, pleased as punch with their creativity. But whatever you named it, it put the league offices at DEFCON 1. Seattle would naturally have to be disqualified, replaced in the Super Bowl by the unfairly vanquished Packers (to face the Colts, natch). But that simply wasn't enough when the integrity of the game was at stake; the NFL began taking the necessary steps to disband the Seahawks, to arrange for a dispersal draft of their players and the public execution of Paul Allen in Pioneer Square, and to re-edit all old NFL Films footage to remove any trace of the franchise's existence.
Then, a lone voice in the wilderness spoke up. You could call him brave, or ingenious, or even—yes—a hero. But he'd reject it. He'd call himself just a simple man, salt of the earth, with a hunger for truth and access to a rulebook.
R.I.P Wedgeghazi, 1/22/15-1/22/15. You left us a changed people.