Evening, gents. Now I know these pre-game “pep talks” got a bit dicey last month when some of you didn’t like the way I was holding those hedge-clippers. So tonight, I’ve decided to forgo any type of garden tool and just talk to you whilst holding a fully loaded handgun!
Aw, I’m just kidding. It isn’t loaded. Or is it? I’ve got so many of these damn things I sometimes forget.
But one thing I’m not soon going to forget is tonight’s game.
I know it hasn’t even happened yet, but tonight’s game is what I like to call a “must win.” We’ve got three games left, and three wins needed to clinch a spot in the post-season. Now I like the post-season. And as my wife is close to dropping our first child, the post-season is about the only thing that’s gonna keep me from two or three weeks of diaper wrangling.
So here’s the thing: We need to come correct tonight and win this motherf#$king game. And when I point the gun toward y’all, you have to understand that I do it merely for emphasis and not to emulate the act of shooting anyone who doesn’t perform to expectations.
Ells has been carrying our sorry asses for too long. It’s time for the entire offense to go shit-crazy. And that’s a special kind of crazy. The kind of crazy I may embrace if we don’t win tonight. You can interpret that any way you want. Just as you’re free to interpret the fact that I’ve already laid out nine chalk outlines of our starting line-up on the clubhouse floor any way you want.
So let’s roll. And have some fun out there. And if we get the win, and I can avoid what would likely be a long and torturous prison sentence for slaughtering my teammates in cold blood, hey, that’s even better.
Time to rock. Oh, and post-game beers and sodas are on me. Unless, of course, you’re all dead.
Heh.
Just kidding. Hooray for winning! Yeah.
