Sunday was brutal for a number of reasons, ranging from my razor breaking to having to do laundry for the first time since returning to Columbia (seven loads).

But the absolute worst thing to happen on Sunday was the Seattle Seahawks winning the Super Bowl.

And as we all know, they didn’t just beat the Denver Broncos. They publicly shamed them in front of the entire world.

Watching Pete Carroll raise the Lombardi Trophy made me more nauseous than the obscene amount of food I had consumed throughout the course of the game. In short, Pete Carroll is an ass.

As a kid, I fell in love with his Southern California teams, and I let the national championships and star players cloud my vision. But when Carroll left USC for Seattle (having left the USC program in complete disarray due to NCAA inquiries about recruiting violations), I quickly recognized him for what he was: a smirking, gum-addicted, obnoxious piece of crap.

Whenever my Rams play the Seahawks, I quite literally view the games as good vs. evil.

It doesn’t end with Carroll, though. It’s his players too. You know who I’m talking about. Golden Tate. (What, you thought I was going to say Richard Sherman? That guy is awesome.) Golden might actually be easier to hate than Carroll.

For starters, his name is Golden. I know that is technically his parents’ fault, but I don’t care. Change it.

The reason I like Sherman is because he talks a lot of trash, and he backs it up completely. There’s nothing worse than a player who talks a lot of trash and can’t back it up. Like Golden Tate.

On top of my general passionate hatred of the Seahawks, the other reason I was pulling for the Broncos was Peyton Manning. Despite his larger-than-life forehead and somewhat constant frown (google “Manning face”), Peyton is undoubtedly one of the most well-liked athletes in professional sports. He is well-mannered, well-spoken, dryly funny, and he enjoys Bud Light.

I’ve always been a Rams fan, but during the really dark years (see: Scott Linehan), I would pull for the Colts, too, since they were also a Midwestern team.

Plus, playing with the Rams offense in Madden was about as enjoyable as walking to Engineering West for an 8 a.m. Peyton’s quarterback vision was practically the entire field! The Colts were an easy choice for a back-up team.

In the interest of full disclosure, though, I will tell you the real reason why I wanted the Seahawks to lose. I have this friend from Seattle. Let’s call him Carl.

Carl pulls for the Seahawks just as hard as I pull for the Rams. I respect that about him. However, Carl is very good at constantly reminding me about how good his Seahawks are and how much my Rams suck, and Sam Bradford sucks, and they’re going to leave St. Louis, etc.

With every turnover the Seahawks caused Sunday, I could sense Carl’s annoying smirk growing bigger, as my frown grew Manning-esque.

Against my better judgement, I checked Carl’s Facebook following the “game.” There was a picture of him in a Seahawks poncho (who the hell has a poncho for their favorite NFL team?) with the caption, “Does this poncho make me look like a World Champion?”

No, Carl, it did not. It made you look like Pete Carroll. Which is to say, you looked like an ass.