After the game, luxuriate in the past, present and future of Mariner domination. Specifically, the most recent three hours' worth. Men only, unless (obviously) you're a woman who relishes victory. Leave us savor, lick and wallow in the blood of Orcs gone perished on the Safeco altar.
And while we're at it, we shall of course monologue on how feeble the Orcs were compared to us, how inevvvvvitable the Orcs' defeat was, how the world will soon be ours, and how James Paxton's 1-2 curve ball was destined to draw a wave and miss from any mortal man.
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