What are some songs that come to mind while thinking of all the moves in free agency!
— Jonathan Stewart (@Jonathanstewar1) March 12, 2014
Glad you asked! Let’s get right to it, shall we?
Song: “MoneyGrabber” by Fitz and the Tantrums
Dedicated to: Matt Cassel, proud owner of a new contract that’s proof we’re no longer in a recession. Might as well grab while the grabbin’s good.
Song: “Feel Me Flow” by Naughty by Nature
Dedicated to: Blaine Gabbert and his golden locks.
Song: “I Wanna Be Sedated” by The Ramones
Dedicated to: Richie Incognito, because acting out is clearly a cry for help.
Song: “Ice, Ice Baby” by Vanilla Ice
Dedicated to: Steve Smith, son.
Song: “B.M.F. (Blowing Money Fast)” by Rick Ross
Dedicated to: John Elway, who will forever be defined by a series of life changing events that lasted fewer than two minutes.
Song: “Every Teardrop a Waterfall” by Coldplay
Dedicated to: Speaking of the Broncos, Knowshon Moreno deserves a shoutout here.
Song: “Wichita Lineman” by Glen Campbell
Dedicated to: Peter King, whose most recent nocturnal emission probably involved a different kind of Wichita lineman.
Song: “Don’t Fuck With My Money” by Penguin Prison
Dedicated to: Anyone attempting to do business with Jimmy Haslam.
Song: “I Ran” by Flock of Seagulls
Dedicated to: Jarius Byrd, who, I’m guessing, isn’t going to miss Buffalo.
Song: “End of the Road” by Boyz II Men
Dedicated to: Demarcus Ware, who’ll be missed more in Dallas than he misses Dallas.
Song: “Mammas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys” by Waylon Jennings
Dedicated to: Enough said.
Song: “Never Gonna Give You Up” by Rick Astley
Dedicated to: Seriously, someone gave Matt Cassel $10 million? That has to be a joke, right?
And now, a very special dedication. It comes to us from a young man in Landover, MD. He writes:
My job has taken me all over the country. I’ve been a lot of places, seen a lot of things. But the one thing I’ve never been able to find is that one person who I can connect with on a deeper level, who enjoys “it” as much as I do. I lay awake at night thinking about “it”, and when I do drift off to sleep, “it” is all I see. I know she’s out there Casey, hopefully listening tonight, and I know she likes “it” too. At the drive-in. In the old man’s ford. Behind the bushes, until I’m screaming for more. Down the basement, I’ll lock the cellar door. Baby, if you’re out there, let’s get dirty.
P.S. – “It” is butt stuff.