Sunday, September 21, 2008

Lurking In the Shadows: BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADY QUINNN!!!!!

I mean, Gawddd, you'd never notice him. He's so, you know. Like, so. Inconthpicuouth.

Derek Anderson has to be hearing the footsteps now. After amassing a stunning stat line of 2 TD/5 INT/405 YD/43.5 RTG to start the season, GUESS WHO is lurking, waiting to take his place, to shock everyone with an explosion of starlight and pixie dust, and just be super duper fabulous on his way to leading the Browns to 13 straight wins, an AFC North title, a first round bye, dramatic victories over the Colts and Steelers, and an epic showdown in the Super Bowl against the Cowboys. Which he will then win, of course. Because Brady is just that cool. Because there is no resisting the allure of his shaggy hair, soulful eyes, chiseled abs, and overwhelming douchebaggery. Because the Brady Quinn Era is coming NOW. Because there ain't nothin' that can stand before the Cumslinger, Reborn.

But hey, don't go thinking that about Brady. He's just a nice Catholic boy who's been waiting for his chance. He hasn't been spiking Anderson's Gatorade with laxatives or anything nasty like that. He's just been doing his duty, serving his time, waiting patiently. He's a good kid. He's not gay, not if there was anything wrong with that if he was. Just because he can match color samples better than anyone on the team doesn't mean anything. You guys are so hard on him, seriously. Brady's not that bad. Sure, he's kind of got that spoiled athlete look down pat, and it's hard not to be jealous that the guy is making five kabillion dollars to stand on the sideline and perfect the angle of his pout, but c'mon. Wouldn't you want to be paid a lot of money to do something you loved? How can you fault him for working hard all his life to be rewarded like this? He's taken what he's been given and he certainly doesn't wish ill on Anderson so his time will come, since he knows it will. He just trusts in his God-given talent and lets the chips fall where they may. Seriously. You're too hard on him. Lay off.


I... uh....

Well, um, hem...

I'm sure there's a perfectly innocent explanation...

My dearest Mr. Quinn, I regret to inform you that you make it much too easy.

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