Here’s your Super Bowl, suckers. I hope you know what this all means.

I suppose this means we in the Bay Area can become as sick to death of talking about Peyton Manning in one week as we have become about Colin Kaepernick in three years.

[RELATED: Manning leads Broncos past Patriots, to Super Bowl 50]

I suppose this means we’ll have to pester Cam Newton into explaining to us why he figured it out and Colin Kaepernick didn’t (and hope that he comes up with the right answer – that he hasn’t worked for lunatics).

I suppose this means that Tom Brady’s latest legacy modification must include “Good Enough For San Mateo, Not Good Enough For Santa Clara.” (We offer this only to further irritate Patriot fans while they wallow in their impotent rage).

[RELATED: Gostkowski's first missed PAT since 2006 costs Patriots]

I suppose this means we won’t get to cajole Carson Palmer into remembering his time in Oakland with completely fake fondness.

I suppose this means we have to remind everyone that we created John Elway, and Denver has just been renting him for the last three and a half decades.

I suppose this means that we’ll have to remind Panthers fans that we created Ron Rivera, and that Carolina has just been renting him for the last five years.

 

I suppose this means that we’ll have to call the cops in to break up bar fights over whether Von Miller would be a better Oscar winner than Luke Kuechly, or vice versa.

I suppose this means we’ll have to set our North Carolina visitors straight on who made Stephen Curry, Stephen Curry.

[RELATED: Panthers crush Cards, will meet Broncos in Super Bowl 50]

I suppose this means we’ll have to remind our Denver visitors that we’ll play Stephen Curry against the Nuggets in Colorado when we damned well feel like it.

I suppose this means we’ll have to sex up Ted Ginn’s time in San Francisco from frustrating fringe player to underappreciated genius.

I suppose this means that Vernon Davis will be endlessly available to explain the inner workings of the San Francisco 49ers to anyone who asks.

I suppose this means we’ll have to endure Sir Purr as Carolina’s version of Sourdough Sam, which is San Francisco’s version of Thunder, and recognize that everyone has something which rightfully embarrasses them.

I suppose this means that Denver assistant Greg Knapp will be bracketed by hungry 49er reporters all week trying to convince him to call Jed York a blithering little dilettante.

I suppose this means we’ll have to explain to Panthers fans coming west that they cannot clear customs at the airport without bringing enough barbecue sauce for everyone.

[RELATED: Manning gets second chance at Super Bowl history]

I suppose this means that there won’t be many Patriot fans around to enhance the Super Bowl experience for those locals who rented out their houses and are heading to Tahoe for the week.

I suppose this means we will have to rip the Broncos for not having a single player with a name as interesting as Fozzy Whitaker. And no, Shiloh Keo doesn’t count.

I suppose this means we will miss Bill Belichick’s pressers to the same degree that we will lament Gary Kubiak’s.

I suppose this means we’ll have to have Jerry Richardson explain to us how he screwed up the Carson deal.

I suppose this means we’ll have to do some fake beer-snobbery stuff so that Broncos fans have to argue that Sweaty Betty Blonde is way better than Pliny The Elder, to their detriment.

I suppose this means we’ll have to do some fake beer-snobbery stuff so that Panthers fans have to argue that Barrel Aged Sexual Chocolate is way better than Dogpatch Sour, to their detriment.

I suppose this means we’ll have to show our Denver visitors that the East Bay isn’t just the Black Hole and the Coliseum parking lot. Besides, the Black Hole and the Coliseum parking lot might be moving to San Diego soon enough anyway, so you may want to take the kids on a field trip celebrating the good old days.

I suppose this means that we’ll have to restrain our impulse to buy excellent fruits and vegetables to hurl at Roger Goodell during his State of The Ginger Address Friday.

I suppose this means that Giants fans and Broncos fans will look at each other quizzically on the street while trying to figure out who gave the other folks permission to dress like highway cones.

I suppose this means that someone will send out a crying Jordan tweet immediately after Sunday’s game ends, to much scorn and more crying Jordan tweets, because the internet is a giant mime college.

I suppose this means we’ll have to explain to our North Carolina visitors that the distance in time between San Francisco and Santa Clara is a lot like Charlotte to Raleigh, only with slightly better scenery.

I suppose this means we’ll have to explain to our Denver visitors that the distance in time between San Francisco and Santa Clara is a lot like Denver to Grand Junction, only with less snow.

I suppose this means we will have to remind the Panthers that if they try to hand a football to a kid in the stands after a touchdown, it’s at best even money that it may come back at them much faster, and with significantly more malice.

I suppose this means we’ll have to explain to Denverites why they can drive in snowdrifts and we completely touch cloth at the first hint of rain.

I suppose this means we’ll have to point out that Hall of Fame candidate Terrell Owens did not play for either Denver or Carolina, which when you consider the number of teams he did play for is rather amazing.

I suppose this means we’ll have to get into a weird governor’s bet between Jerry Brown and John Hickenlooper with the stakes being a pound of goods from our finest weed dispensaries.

I suppose this means that we’ll have to explain to our North Carolina visitors that if they are accidentally confronted by Mayor Ed Lee that it’s perfectly acceptable to walk away, come back 45 minutes later and expect him to keep talking as though he never noticed you had left. Because he hadn’t. And we do it all the time.

I suppose this means we’ll have to explain to our North Carolina visitors that they get to have their tobacco smoke and we get to have ours. And when they see Sourdough Sam, they’ll understand why.

And finally, I suppose this means that we’ll have to explain to everyone that the day after the Super Bowl is the best day of Super Bowl Week because, while we will have enjoyed you all here in the 7x7, we never underestimate the zen-like peace that comes from all those departing planes. And we hope fervently to see all of you again at Super Bowl C.

As in 100.