Marshawn Lynch is the star running back for the Seattle Seahawks who is making life difficult for himself in the days leading up to Sunday’s Super Bowl.

He is accomplishing this by refusing to carry out a contractual obligation to interact with the media assembled in New Jersey for Super Bowl 48.

Lynch has spoken for only a few minutes at the first two mandatory media opportunities in New Jersey and, in the process, his not-really-speaking has become the story of the week.

Which tells us two things: 1) Super Bowl week can be really, really dull and 2) Lynch could have disappeared into the drone of nothingness with little or no trouble, had he bothered to try.

I have covered 12 Super Bowls, and I can assure you that, perceptions of glamor aside, it is one of the dreariest assignments a sports journalist can have.

It’s 1,000 credentialed media chasing about 90 players, and maybe a dozen actual stars, and looking for something new or interesting in a milieu where “new or interesting” often doesn’t exist.

A few players love the attention, and they become the “happy, charming guy” stories that often are written. But most of the rest just put up with it, and engage only on a very primitive level — and it works like a charm. They fulfill their contractual obligations without getting into trouble and also without any significant revelations about anything.

A player perceived as boring, with nothing to say, who answers in a sentence, not a paragraph, is a guy who pretty much escape further scrutiny. Even star running backs.

Even with Lynch and his “Beast Mode” thing, his history of stiffing the Seattle media (for which he maybe was fined $50,000 by the league) and his three run-ins with the law.

I don’t know why some teammate didn’t clue him into this.

Question about his legal issues? “Sorry, but I’m here to talk only about football.” About his difficulties in Buffalo? “That was a different time and place; I’m all about the here and now.” And when in doubt, start vamping about how great your teammates are — talking about your offensive lineman always, always, always works for running backs — and about how much you respect the opposition. Repeat. Next thing you know, your 45 minutes is over.

If you can sprinkle in a few personal details: “The first Super Bowl I remember watching was …” Then all the better.

It can be done. Trust me. I’ve seen it done a hundred times.

What happens? Reporters give up on guys like that. They tell each other, “that guy is boring” but hardly anyone actually writes, “That guy is boring.”

Instead, by doing what he is doing, Marshawn Lynch has become The Story. Rest assured hundreds of stories have been written about his non-cooperation, with attached speculation why that might be. Also, NFL writers are filing complaints about his actions, which could lead to a fine if he again climbs over chairs to get out of the interview room after seven minutes — while everyone else on his team sticks around and does their duty.

Some suggest the NFL has no right to order players to speak. But that obligation is in their contracts. Have the union take it up at the next bargaining sessions.

Meantime, it is alarming to see reporters suggesting Lynch does no harm by refusing to speak.

Take it from someone who has experience covering sports outside the U.S. — where athletes are not expected to speak, media have no access to lockerrooms and the contact between media and athlete is nearly zero — unless a sponsor has served as a intermediary, or the media organization has paid cash for the athlete to answer a few questions. Here in the UAE, major media outlets can have a standing request to interview a soccer player at any time, anywhere, and be waiting still. I could name a half-dozen guys on the UAE national team.

British journalists here, conditioned to their own soccer players who never speak, are astonished by the tales of American sports writers about the access journalists get in the U.S.  Clubhouses open before and after games. Players available after practices. Managers and coaches who speak every day.

And I have to think some of that humanization of the men inside the uniforms helps popularize their sport, which leads to tickets being sold and money being made. Some of it by the players themselves.

Check this entry on the most heavily attended sports leagues in the world.

I am convinced it is no coincidence that four of the top five best-attended leagues in the world are in North America, where media access to players is most liberal. Baseball averages 30,000 fans per opening over a 162-game season involving 30 teams.  Which is amazing. But baseball also has an open clubhouse for about 90 minutes before every game.

The NFL and the NBA and NHL grasp this symbiotic relationship, too, and make their athletes accessible … and they also are in the world attendance top five.

The NFL plays only about 60 percent as many games as the storied English Premier League yet lures about 4 million more paying customers.

In part, because NFL players, aside from Marshawn Lynch, come out and speak.

The thing is, anyone with a brain in his head knows this is no great trouble. Speak without saying anything; mumble; avoid eye contact; live up to the contract; allow the NFL to carry on with its media-friendly reputation.

A couple hours of meaningless droning, and Marshawn Lynch could have avoided becoming the story of the week.

It really is that simple. Thousands of players before him managed to pull it off.