Fixed that for you, Drew.

The 1998 NFC Championship game upset my younger brother so badly (being about 4 at the time) that my parents had to drag him outside to calm him down. He then became a Patriots “fan.” So screw you Gary Anderson for making me and my family have to deal with that...

No. Nobody else thinks that.

The guy the Broncos said, “No, go ahead, you take him. We’ll just go with Mark Sanchez.”

Holy shit.

You published my submission! I feel famous now! Thanks, Drew!

.

Shout out to the woman at around 1:40 screaming “Go to Kansas!” You’re the real MVP.

Ummmmm, what the fuck kind of seats are those? You may as well sit in the parking lot.

Reading this series, in addition to giving me great joy, have convinced me to keep up my lifetime streak of never attending an NFL game in person.

Being a Jets fan is the most morally justifiable thing I do. I’m pretty sure it technically qualifies as an act of charity.

I’ll put money down that Spurrier was forced out of Washington after Snyder found out that he let Dave drink some Gatorade for free.

Being a Jets fan is akin to having a fuck up relative that you care deeply about. Even when you know things are going really well, and you think that things are going to be okay and you’re proud of them, you’re constantly aware that it’s only a matter of time before they snort and 8-ball, swallow a handful of pills,…

I still own a Chad Pennington jersey.

Jim Caldwell, like Buster Bluth, excelled at the Milford Academy, where he was neither seen nor heard.

He goes around the world twice for his haircut.

Entertainment 720

I own a tuxedo T-shirt and many Raiders shirts. I deserve every word of this.

My expectation is that Spanos and Davis’s LLC was actually named Prestige Worldwide.

The fuck would I be doing in New Jersey?