Last time these two teams faced each other, Brian Westbrook took it to the hole so hard, so often, so vigorously, the Cards didn't shit right for days. Cock-ramming the Rams a week later restored Arizona's taste for the sweet, soft asses and mouths of submissive men, but they looked positively cumsick against the Vikes and Pats to rear-end the season. Sure, they beat the Falcons and the Panthers, but so could a pickup team from the Missouri State University Bisexual, Gay and Lesbian Alliance. Now they're playing in their first conference championship since 1572, when the Cardinals were named the Quetzal Birds and based in the Aztec city of Tenochtitlan, where they played an ancient precursor of football with ritual overtones named Tlachtli, in which the captain of the losing team would have his head cut off and gleefully brandished by the victors. The game has evolved since then - offensive captain Anquan Boldin will only face the severing of his enormous testicles after Asante Samuel, Sheldon Brown, Brian Dawkins and Quentin Mikell take turns draining their spooj guns into every orifice in his ailing body - but the humiliation before Huitzilopochtli will be no less terrible.
Philadelphia 28, Arizona 20
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