From a May 11 interview with ESPN:
“Actually, I don’t even believe in curses. It’s really sad how many people believe in curses. This is football; everyone gets hurt. If you run the ball 40 times a game, you’re going to get banged around and get nicks and bruises here and there, but I don’t pay too much attention to that. I’ll let it take care of itself.”
Then came an eight-touchdown, 600-yard decline in productivity, a hamstring injury, an exchange of tough guy back-and-forth with his team over a contract and that time he bailed on a charity gig with the Cleveland Boys And Girls Club. This deadly combination of bad PR, commonplace injury, personal assholery and “living in Cleveland” can only mean one thing.
From a December 19 interview with Cleveland.com:
“No doubt about it, things haven’t worked to my favor this year. There’s a few things that happened that made me believe in curses. Ain’t no doubt about it.”
There you have it. There ain not any doubt about it. Peyton Hillis is cursed, and the only way the Browns can get back on track is if Mike Holmgren tricks John Madden into walking over a cleverly disguised pit and rips off his face to reveal Old Man Jenkins from the abandoned amusement park.
I think they should find the worst player in the NFL and put him on the Madden 13 box just to see if he spontaneously combusts. Any takers?
[h/t to Shutdown Corner]
