RARELY do I ever talk about myself beyond my history as a football player, or my love for writing. However, with Training Camp being weeks away, I find myself thinking a lot about things that aren’t football. So I figured why not share some of those thoughts.
WARNING! OLD FART RANTING AHEAD!
Sitting here, staring down the barrel of turning 42, it occurs to me that my odds of ever being the #1 overall NFL draft pick, might be starting to decline. No, really! I think my odds are slipping. Perhaps I should start getting in shape now. Oh yeah, and enroll in a college. Nah! I can put it off another year. Besides, someone has to eat these cheese steaks and Beiler’s doughnuts. And this beer won’t drink itself, right? Don’t worry folks! I’ll step up and take this one for the team. (You see that? I’m a goddamned American HE-ro!)
What would make more sense, is for me to show up to the NovaCare Center and tell them I’d like to fill out an application for team Owner. Of course it’s common sense to think that I’d get laughed out of the building. While that’s a safe bet, I can’t help but wonder what I’d do if someone (with a straight face) handed me an application.
I probably don’t have the qualifications to own an NFL team. So it might be better to stick to jobs that any unqualified idiot can get. So this is me deciding to run for President in 2020. My slogan will be “NEVER AGAIN!” My campaign promises will include:
1) The public flogging of Roger Goodell.
2) Having mascots visit more schools, hospitals, and prisons.
3) Establishing a quality of life police force. (Loud talking on cell phones, visible muffin tops, sandals with ugly feet, wearing clothes two sizes too small, taking up two parking spaces, etc. All ticketable offenses.)
4) Converting some of the Defense budget into a middle class tax cut, and moving the income tax return period from March to October, to help retailers when they need it most.
That will all have to wait a couple years though. In the meantime, I’m just going to continue to write, consume food and football, torment my rivals, and persecute those who butcher the (American version of the) English language.