If It Really Was a Bad Dream, Couldn’t It Simply Be Forgotten?

Is it over? Was Super Week XXI all a bad dream, or did it really happen this way?

Following recent football custom, the Giants arrive with several players sporting jungle fatigues and sunglasses, and talking tough.

The Broncos one-up the Giants. The Bronco plane buzzes Long Beach Airport, pulls up and heads north. The players parachute out over the San Bernardino Mountains and set up training camp at an abandoned Hare Krishna retreat.

Through a player-spokesman, the Broncos announce they have declared “War on hoopla.”

“We’re taking ourselves hostage,” the spokesman announces from behind barbed-wire barricades. “Rambo don’t order no room service, baby. John Wayne don’t take his wife shoppin’ before he invades Guam or whatever. We ain’t goin’ to no Disneyland, we ain’t talkin’ to no press. You want quotes, go find Jim McMahon. You want pictures, go find LeRoy Neiman. You want some bad-bleep football, come get us next Sunday morning.”

Photos taken from a weather satellite show the Broncos sleeping in tents and eating C-rations.

The Giants, unintimidated by the Bronco bravado, begin referring to Denver’s training headquarters as “Camp Snoopy.” After one day, the Broncos break camp and check into a hotel after John Elway is bitten by a mosquito.

The Giants are fitted for new uniforms, to replace the ones stolen off their backs by enthusiastic fans at the going-away pep rally at the Meadowlands. The fans also steal Phil Simms, but return him the next day, unharmed. “You gotta love their spirit,” Simms says.

President Reagan, due to an error by his schedule adviser, phones the Rose Bowl locker room a week early to congratulate the winner. The phone is answered by a janitor who hangs up after barking, “Right, pal, and I’m Mo Kadafi. Let’s do lunch.”

Hoping to avert a massive traffic jam, Super Bowl officials urge ticket holders to begin their trek to the Rose Bowl no later than noon Tuesday. This results in a massive traffic jam starting noon Tuesday and not clearing up until halftime.

Joe Morris blows his 5-foot-7 top after the 1,000th question about whether he will be at a disadvantage, seeing as how the game will not be played on artificial turf. On photo day at the Rose Bowl, the Giants have a tense moment when Morris gets lost in the tall grass.

Lawrence Taylor, seeking to escape detection by backslappers and autograph hounds, wears his helmet all week long, even in restaurants and the hotel Jacuzzi.

Fans clamor to sign up for the many booze ‘n bowl packages offered by bars and restaurants. The most popular package is a tavern-sponsored road rally, where you get free pretzels and all the liquor you can drink and wear, starting Wednesday night, and a map to the Rose Bowl. The rally begins and ends with a 43-car pile-up in the bar’s parking lot.

Denver’s mascot, Barrel Man, meets a producer over drinks in the Polo Lounge and signs to star in a TV sit-com. Barrel Man backs out of the deal a day later, citing “philosophic and artistic differences” with his co-star, Sir Laurence Olivier.

On Saturday, a local TV weatherman predicts “a probability of Gatorade showers tomorrow. Also, John Elway’s head will be partly cloudy, with clearing expected by midweek.” Local TV consumer watchdog David Horowitz presents a half-hour blockbuster--”Who Are These Guys, Anyway?”--in which he reveals scientific evidence that the New York Giants are neither particularly gigantic, nor do they represent the city or state of New York.

A UFO lands near Oxnard. Newsman Ted Dawson is first on the scene and asks the spokesbeing, “Who do you like in the Big One?” The being replies, “Russia, but we’ll take America and the points.”

“We won’t have a curfew,” Bronco Coach Dan Reeves announces, stating that his players are grown-up, adult-type men and will be treated as such. Later that day, two prominent Broncos are arrested for dropping water balloons off their hotel balcony and a defensive lineman misses practice after eating 14 hot-fudge sundaes.

Giant Coach Bill Parcells, who believes that an elephant with its trunk pointing up is a symbol of good luck, finds a real one in his hotel room. When Parcells phones the front desk to complain, the night manager hangs up on him.

When the prank gets widespread publicity, Democratic Party leaders demand equal time.

Despite ultra-tight security, a local investigative reporter uncovers the agenda for the halftime show. Baryshnikov, the Osmond Family, Wolfman Jack, the Stanford Band and the entire crew of the U.S.S. Peleliu will star in a “Tribute to the USFL.” Musical numbers will include “Glory Days,” “Pennies from Heaven” and “Where Have All the Jacksonville Gators Gone?”

One local TV station brings in William Perry as guest Super Bowl restaurant critic (“Of the five places I tried last night . . . “), and a rival station counters with Benoit Benjamin.

In a sting operation, the LAPD arrests 735 at-large felons after luring them to a hotel with a bogus promise of free Super Bowl tickets. An attorney representing the 735 arrestees finds a loophole, and a judge is forced to order that the felons be released and given 50-yard-line seats and free beer.

After months of meticulous preparation, the game arrives. Just before kickoff, a slight schedule miscalculation. Five thousand doves, released at the 50-yard line, are sucked into the jet engines of 12 Air Force planes zooming low over the Rose Bowl.

The opening kickoff is fumbled.

I wake up in a cold sweat.

Was it only a dream?