Get with it slim…

Look, I played ball in school and I love athletics, although I don’t really keep up with televised games any longer. And football is one of my true passions when time permits.

But listen, where are the John Jeffersons, Lynn Swanns, Rick Upchurches, Wes Chandlers, James Loftons, Drew Pearsons, Jerry Rices, Steve Largents, and Art Monks? I mean yes, we have great players in that role today, but the dropped passes are making me take up a hobby. I’d rather knit. My father taught me to be a Quarterback by teaching me to be a receiver. I wasn’t fast, but I could catch a cold in Beirut if I had to. Look it in, use both hands, let the body trap it, and if you’re in the red zone, by God hold onto anything, because getting crunched on a catch makes you a hero, scores, let’s the linemen get Gatorade, and makes you a dependable all star. Missing a tough catch and getting hit anyway makes you look like the fourth stooge who couldn’t CATCH a break. Those pesky extra chromosomes…

But I think I know what the main problem is. The T. O. and Chad Ocho… concerns are over now. But, there is a new platoon of distraction on the field of battle. I just watched the best receiver outside of Larry Fitzgerald, Julio Jones, drop two that could put him in the lead during Pro Bowl voting. Β Dez, Antonio, Beckham, Jr. …it seems like there is a mental distraction at times and I know what it could be. When Jones took his helmet off, or Beckham, or plenty of today’s receivers, I see the problem as clear as day. Their look! There is a general attitude of loveliness that only “Ali”, had the right to convey, because after all, it was, well, Ali…πŸ‘

But, I think today they must be out there on the field wondering if their turquoise highlights match their opaque, egg white shoes, Β or will the logo and name be visible during the returns from commercials, due to the long ass hair pact which some of them have apparently pledged to. I didn’t have enough Ass to play defense. You need literal strength in one’s backbone to stuff the holes within the line of scrimmage. But, Bess believe I would clutch a handful of hair…just on GP! I’d pull a nigga hair coming out of the tunnel just to warn him that his knowledge of Vidal Sassoon is not going to save this non-felony Ass whooping which is about to commence.

I’m being jovial, with my semantical approach, because no one respects the actors in “The Show,” more than I. But, catch the Damn Ball yo! People have cheese on this Shit Son!…Now, let’s get ’em…πŸ‘‘πŸ˜‡πŸ‡ΊπŸ‡ΈπŸŒŽπŸˆπŸ‹πŸΏ

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