(Editor’s Note: Barack Obama will not make an appearance in this column.)
Dear Coach,
Now that the Superbowl is over, it’s not too late to begin thinking about “next” year.
So, pursuant with the terms of my plea bargain agreement and by order of the court, “Number 81®” hereby submits this apology to you, to the patrons of Danny’s All Night Café and to the fine ladies of the Buddy’s Airport Lounge and Go-Go Barn (home of the $12.99 T-bone-lap-dance combo).
While the words have been crafted on the advice of Number 81®’s attorney, the sincerity is 110 percent mine.
I hope you can tell a posteriori.
As former San Francisco 49ers Coach Mike Singletary once noted: “Accountability is a huge word.”
He was right, ipso facto.
He was promptly fired.
This concerned me. It was a development I had not reckoned on at the professional level.
So, I sat down and tried to reason it out: I counted at least nine letters in the word “accountability” before I got tired. Accountability really is a huge word.
I saw a whole bunch of letters remaining so I asked my “accountant” to look into it. He told me for sure that if “accountability” was a beer you’d have at least a couple of six packs, or something like that. We were both drunk at the time.
Speaking of six packs: when I legally changed my name to “Number 81®” as a part of the four-figure marketing deal I signed with Buddy’s Airport Lounge and Go-Go Barn (home of the $12.99 T-bone-lap-dance combo), I agreed to insert the words “Try Buddy’s new package service on Route 81 near the airport” at least every 300 words, whether written or verbal. Please note that the preceding sentence brings me into compliance with that agreement.
Where was I? Oh yes… an apology.
Number 81®, without admitting to any individual guilt for the purposes of staying in compliance with the personal conduct requirements of my league, hereby, expressly and without reservation, apologizes to you, to my teammates, to the patrons of Danny’s All Night Café and to the fine ladies of Buddy’s Airport Lounge and Go-Go Barn, except of course Alexia, Boots and Starry who still owe me money from last month.
Ladies, please call me, because I do take trade. Just don’t call me on the house phone; or on the cell phone. Call me on the other cell phone.
Number 81® was unaware that the combination of steroids, LSD and cough syrup could interact in such a way as to produce intense feelings of inadequacy strong enough to compel me to set fire to 13 private booths and three dinning booths.
I figured, tops, I might set fire to two, combined.
Number 81® apologizes for this miscalculation.
I apologize especially to Mildred and Eugene Garsucker, patrons at Danny’s All Night Café.
You were both right: I should have let you out of the booth first, before I set fire to it.
I know what you’re thinking.
You’re thinking: “I can understand, Number 81®, that as an athlete you want to find a chemical advantage if it’s going to result in millions of dollars in bonus money. I mean who wouldn’t take therapeutic doses of LSD as long as it was prescribed by bona fide PhD that goes by the name ‘RealityX13’?
But taking steroids? How could you?”
First, Lance Armstrong and now Number 81®?
Number 81® just hopes that when I graduate next year from Texas high school football and move over to college football’s Texas Longhorns this incident won’t affect my partying career.
I hope too that this incident won’t affect my scholarship to the Cincinnati Bengals’ Pacman Jones football camp next April.
Alexia, Boots and Starry are “celebrity” instructors.
Sincerely,
Your Loving Wide Receiver,
Number 81®, non obstante verdicto
Progressive Hate of the Day!
