God enters his last press conference for the 2012-13 season following Notre Dame’s loss to Alabama. Reporters remain seated.
God: I don’t have too much to say. You all saw it. I tip my halo to Nick Saban and his team. They came prepared and executed their game. The boys from Notre Dame played with a lot of heart, but unfortunately, the heart is not the part of the body that makes tackles. That’s not how we designed this team, and that’s not the way I designed the human body.
Reporter: Were the Fighting Irish not prepared?
God: Right now, I regret taking the Christmas break to go skiing. Maybe we make birthdays a little bigger deal than we should up here, and that turned out to be not the right decision. But I take full responsibility. I made this team—not to mention all creation, time and space—so the buck stops with me.
Reporter: What did you think of the officiating?
God: Pretty questionable in the first half. I haven’t seen officiating that atrocious since the Inquisition. Hey, let them fine me, it’s the truth! I will not bear false witness. It cost us a lot of momentum in the first quarter. Or the first half of the first quarter. I got confused a little bit. Time seemed to stand still for most of the game. For a while there, I was toying with the idea of making it a six-quarter game, since the Irish finally played like a Division I team in the second half. But it would’ve caused a lot of fallout that frankly I don’t need. I spend enough of my time monitoring the Pope’s Tweets.
Reporter: Some people have said that for an all-powerful, omniscient deity, you were not in control of this game.
God: People say what they’re going to say. I can’t stop them; I can only visit them with everlasting torment later. Like when Saban said at halftime, “This game’s not over.” Sorry, Nick, that little untruth earned you 75 years up to your neck in a vat of boiling Ben-Gay later on the Brimstone Postgame Show. And I can’t tell you what’s in store for Brent Musberger, but I will say it’s sexy and cringeworthy at the same time. What do people want from me? Hurricanes? I’m already over my seasonal quota, and frankly, those take a lot more out of me than they used to. Maybe this whole “running creation” job is for a younger man. But I can’t make that decision now. Maybe in a week. I did what I could. I finally made Eddie Lacy slip at the beginning of the fourth quarter, but that was the only time I or anyone else could get a hand on him. Same with Amari Cooper on the touchdown pass a couple plays later. But it’s a team effort. Win or lose, you lose as a team, and there are three of us up here that will have to take a long look in the mirror tomorrow morning and judge what we see, as always.
Reporter: Do you think this was a national championship caliber game tonight?
God: What a blasphemous question! Of course I do! Notre Dame had a tough schedule. Do you really think Pitt was a pushover? Navy? Wake Forest? Get outta here! Next question.
Reporter: Would you say tonight’s defeat is an endorsement of sanctification by grace or sanctification by works?
God: Don’t get all Calvinist on me, pal. I’m so mad, I’m tempted to throw out our whole system and start again with the Old Playbook, you hear me? Smiting, sacrifices, pestilence—believe me, nobody’s gonna be happy!
Reporter: What’s next for God?
God: It’s too soon to tell. The shock is still fresh. As of right now, I feel like switching religions. There are a lot of Baptists down in Alabama. I thought I was through with all that charismatic whooping and hollering, but they must be doing something right.
Reporter: Any final thoughts?
God: This too shall pass, but that Alabama secondary is a bitch.