You’ve got it all. A badass name that only an NFL player or urban mayor could rock. A Super Bowl ring that you’re basically responsible for. NFL receiving records. Height, speed, strength. Fame, fortune, success. The VaGiants couldn’t be looking better (You’re 11-1 ? Who’da thunk it?)–confidence has taken y’all far.
Oh wait, there’s more on your plate: For instance, a self-inflicted gunshot wound and probably a mandatory three-and-a-half year jail sentence for carrying an illegal handgun in New York. Wow! That’s a lot! (Also, bad news for the VaGiants!)
Plaxico, ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY? More importantly, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? Do you hate freedom? Do you hate being celebrated? Do you hate holding your head up high? Do you hate being blown more than the Sahara Desert sands by football groupies?
Maybe, deep down, you just hate Eli Manning, and fucking up before playoffs is your twisted way of sticking it to him. Perhaps you’re just trying to prove Amani Toomer right by being a real fucking distraction, instead of proving him wrong and looking like the real man.
I ask this because I cannot understand why a star athlete such as yourself–with only a few weeks in the season left to behave in the season–should fuck up so royally. Didn’t the suspension teach you anything? Doesn’t winning mean anything to you? I hate to say it, but you could have it all. Correction: you could have had it all.
I don’t know what else to say, dude. I don’t understand you, and think you should really be ashamed of yourself for pissing away the great, god-given talent and opportunities laying in your royal lap. Goddamn!
Also, now, I’m really, really, really glad that you’re not on my team anymore.
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