We get it. You like your team…a lot. In fact, we can tell that your blood runs maize and blue/red and white/dumb and dumber by the fevered look in your eyes. There’s no need to put any frosting on your crazy cake.
Unless you’re a five-year-old at a petting zoo, put away the warpaint. And kookaloo: You’re not Darth Maul, either. You’re just greasepainted gob who’s not Comiconning anyone.