You've Got to Hand it to the Rams; Their Super Bowl Ring is a Preposterous Work of Art
Like you and all but about two dozen people on the continent, I'm no fan of the LA Rams. Nor does anyone really hate them. They don't generate an emotional reaction one way or the other. If that franchise was a fictional character, it would be the guy on the elevator with Don Draper:
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Nevertheless, you've got give them credit where it's due. They hired the right head coach. Drafted the right perennial Defensive Player of the Year. Assembled a solid unit around him. And when they lost faith in their franchise quarterback, they demonstrated tremendous balls to admit their mistake and make a bold move to get just the right veteran to replace him.
Simply put, they're the champions because they deserve to be. And by god, they know how to act like it.
To the victors go the spoils. And while that used to mean going on some foreign soil, conquering a people and stripping their land of every last resource you can haul back, from their precious wealth to using their survivors as chattel to using the severed head of their king as a hood ornament on your chariot, today is means something else.
A ring. A gaudy, ostentatious eyesore. A dazzling, golden, bejeweled monument to wretched excess. The more extravagant and excessive the better. And in that respect, the Rams have triumphed even more than they did against Cincinnati in February.
I mean, look at this bauble. Somewhere across the seas, a mountain was strip mined to the ground to provide the rare metals and gems for this thing. Complete with a removable top that reveals a scale of SoFi Stadium big enough to store your car keys:
And just to put the size of it in perspective, here it is on a (super)human hand:
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Judging by this perspective, I'd guess that model of SoFi is about 1:10 scale. You know they're impressive when you can barely take your eyes off them to see Kelly Stafford. But enough of your toxic male gaze. We're hear to talk about the jewelry.
The best part of seeing these is realizing that with each passing year, these things have to get bigger, grander, and more outlandish. The trend has been heading in that direction for 50 years now, and if anything, it's been accelerating over the last couple of decades. Vince Lomardi's Packers probably had theirs drawn on with a marker. The Jets probably got the band off of Weeb Ewbank's victory cigars. By the time Al Davis was giving them to his Raiders, they might have been the kind you can get at the Chuck E. Cheese prize counter for 500 tickets. Now they cost more than the GDP of at least 30 US states. And by the time we hit Super Bowl 60, we'll probably need to mine a passing asteroids for their minerals just to have the raw materials necessary. (I like to think right now Bill Belichick is working on that plan right now. And looking into a space forge like the one Peter Dinklage used to make Stormbreaker in Avengers: Endgame. But hopefully it won't take that long for him to win his ninth.)
But for now, the moment belongs to the Rams. And by any standards, they outdid themselves with these fabulous monstrosities. Well deserved, indeed.