We never could fish Skeeter out of the septic tank. I tell ya, it was a sad Christmas that year. Aw, who am I kidding? I got rock candy in my stocking. It was a great Christmas!
Another thing I wanna talk about is football records. I been sayin’ since I was knee-high to a crawfish that there shouldn’t be no stats in football. Who needs ’em? They should keep score and that’s it. What do you get from knowing how many times a feller threw a ball good versus how many times he didn’t? That don’t tell you nothing. There been times when peoples got good stats and they lose ballgames. Stats is traitors, just like the men from the county who come ’round telling us not to let the hounds roam free in the neighborhood. “They attack neighbor’s children.” Neighbors?! Our closest neighbor is two miles down the dirt road. If Old Barky Dog goes two miles out his way, he deserves to go after whoever he wants. Besides, dog attack’ll toughen a kid right up. Sometimes, I think we’re raising a generation of sissies. Folks don’t wanna hear the truth, I guess.
Drew Brees! DREW BREES! There’s a man who looks like he took a dog attack in his life. I mean, what is wrong with that man’s face? I ain’t no beauty myself, but hell. I used to get scratches like that on my face. Momma used to grab a mess of bird feed and rub it on in there. OLD FAMILY SECRET, she says. It turn black for a spell, but after a few weeks, good as new!
Yep. There was a lot of commotion recently about that Drew Brees. ‘Cause he broke some stats record for most whazzahoogits in consecutive sumthingorothers. I don’t know what. I do know that I had the computer man at FOX fire up the NFL computer page to the thing that shows who has the wins, and the Saints ain’t have so many wins this season. Now, I don’t wanna be no Lecturin’ Luther, but that don’t sit right with me.
In my day, after someone helped me get dressed, I would get out there on the field and I hucked and chucked it until the coach told me to stop. Then I asked the coach if we won. “Hey coach, we win?” I said. Sometimes we wouldn’t and that was sad. But most of the time we did and hooooooooo weeeeeeee, I was happier than a pig in shit. Every now and then, the Negative Nellie writer types would say to me, “Terry, why you so happy? You threw three messermerceptions or whatever.” I slapped my knee and laughed like a little boy. Who cares? We won, didn’t we?
That’s why I’m so confounded about this Brees business. He won a Super Bowl so I know he’s a good quarterback. But I know I’m a damn sight better because I won four of those suckers. One, two, uh, seven, four! Four Super Bowls. That’s more than one. Seven more than one! So I know a thing or two about what it takes to win. And winning is why you play the game. So don’t tell me I don’t know what I takes to win. Oh, I’m gettin’ my dander up!
Anyway, to answer your question, no I don’t remember why I claimed on the roof of this shack.