It’s time you and I had a man-to-man talk, Jamal Lewis. You’ve been on my fantasy team for quite some time now, Jamal. We’ve had our ups and downs since I took you in 2005, even after you went to jail for four weeks the previous season on what was technically setting up a drug deal. I knew you were a hard, downhill runner, which is odd because I always thought the football field was a relatively level structure. But I digress.
Jamal, don’t you fuck me in the ass like you did in 2005. I had the number one pick going into that draft. Did I run off with Corey Dillon or Curtis Martin, motherfucker? Hell, no. I stood by your broken-down ass because I FUCKING BELIEVED IN YOU. And how was I rewarded for my undying faith? Three shitty little touchdowns. And way to give me that one 100-yard game on the last week of our season. That really solidified my 1-11 finish. Cocksucker.
And here we are again. Did you think I was going to throw myself onto Michael Turner like some floozy? Shit, no. EVERYONE on the Browns’ offense is ranked at or near the top five in their respective positions–except for you. You turn 29 this season. You run behind the best line in the league. I KNOW you have another 1,200-yard season in you, you big fucking loser. You can do it, buddy!