AFTER what seemed like forever, Chip Kelly opened his mouth and said “Yes. You can call me Chippah.” I asked him if he had read the article I wrote about him going on a murder spree. He chuckled that he hadn’t, but that he looked forward to doing so.
At that point Chippah reached over and selected a California Roll off of the naked woman who was paid to act as our serving tray. I was reaching for the tuna sashimi, when Tony Romo walked over and told me that I could punch him for $5. So I handed him a 50. It was all I had on me.
When the paramedics left, Chippah got down to talking Offense, and he showed me his playbook. There was one formation where Darren Sproles is on the right in the slot with Jordan Matthews, with Riley Cooper split wide. Trey Burton is taking snaps under Center, with LeSean McCoy offset left behind him. It was sort of a Spread/Wildcat hybrid, and it looked like a monster even on paper.
I clapped my hands together gleefully, not caring how childlike it made me look. I was thinking Super Bowl.
Suddenly Bobby Griffin ran into the room, grabbed the playbook, and bolted for the door. Then his knee gave way and he crumpled to the floor. Chippah took back his playbook, and used a push broom to sweep Bob into the hallway as he screamed “Shanahan! Why did you make me do this?!”
At that point I knew to expect the Va-giants to make an attempt. From seemingly nowhere, Eli Manning snatches the playbook, and outside the castle window (I did mention that we were in a castle, right? I didn’t?? Sorry. My bad). Anyway, Victor Cruz yells “Over here!” and Eli throws the playbook right to me. I have no idea how. Me and the window weren’t even on the same side of the room. Eli hung his head and commenced with his “Struggle Face“. The day was saved.
At that point I smelled coffee and heard my alarm clock going.
The season can’t get here fast enough.