Pey...Ton...Man...Ning

Hello, kids, and thank you for all your letters of support.  It's been a rough few decades for me, and the unicorns, and without your unconditional support I don't think we would have made it through to the other side.  But today, I can say for the first time in a long time, is a great day.

I, being in charge of this dump and all, realize that I haven't branched out since November when a terrorist attack rocked the cradle of everything romantic in civilized culture, and the reason for that is because...well...sometimes bad guys win.

But victories are ever fleeting and the games are always starting anew and I just got some really cool knee pads and I'm willing to tap in for a little bit more.

Plus, I'd be absolutely beside myself if I didn't jump on the gigantic celebration that's taking place right now in Denver for the retirement party of Peyton Manning.  The entire world is coming together to reflect, reminisce, and re-purpose my lunch over the epic, position re-defining, and potential global warming causing, career of Pey...Ton...Man...Ning.  I wrote it like that because that's how he says his name. 

I always have these grandeur visions of the end of my enemies and how I'll be standing there, victoriously over them, laughing hysterically, and covered in blood and various animal furs.  It's never my first instinct to envision the bullshit propaganda-led media tour of Mount Olympus.  I'm no expert in Greek mythology but I'm no slouch either so correct me if I'm wrong...exactly when did Zeus teabag Hera?

Look, I'm almost positive that Peyton dropped his nut-sack on a female trainer's face in a completely accidental nature because nobody ever specifically pointed out to him that you shouldn't do such a thing.  You have to be very specific when talking to Peyton.  Run the flat route, Peyton.  Do this commercial, Peyton.  Don't eat the paste, Peyton.  Don't drop your balls on people, Peyton.

I almost side with Peyton because I didn't know that Tennessee law was so progressive on sexual assault charges.  I guess I kind of assumed there was one judge in the entire state and he just sat on a bale of hay and made loud decrees of who played the jug the best.  I'm obviously joking.  I have been to Tennessee and the time I've spent there was nothing but a joyous occasion.  I definitely did not spend my entire stay there counting down to the time I left Tennessee.  That did not happen.  Definitely.

What's to come of these allegations?  Absolutely nothing.  This happened back in the late 90's which might as well be the Bronze Age because we're old now in case you didn't get the Bronze Age joke.  Peyton wins the Super Bowl on marionette strings held by Wade Phillips and the rest of his gang of wily, HGH-using defensive players and the most deserving of the bunch gets the MVP.  Von Miller uses player-enhancing drugs, was suspended for it, then gets crowned the most important player in the most important game the sport has, gives awards away at the Grammys, and then goes on Dancing With The Stars.  What.  The.  Fuck.

Kids!  Do you like to try hard and earn your goals the right way?  Well, sucks to be you!  The new American standard, where our idols truly lie, is that it's really important what your end result is.  Forget about all that bullshit beforehand...we want trophies, dammit!  Learn this line and remember it well, "Well they were doing it too!"  It's iron-clad and it's a ticket to fame on ABC.

I don't fault Peyton Manning for the malefaction of his teammates.  That's only something that the leader of the team would fall on the sword for.  Denouncing PED's and the amount that it has infiltrated your own clubhouse and how it has attributed to your late success is not going to be on the speech given at the retirement press conference.  No, in fact, the great Peyton will stand there in Denver and give the best cookie cutter speech in white American sports legend history. 

I just had that thing happen to me where I used the word 'Peyton' so many times that it has lost all meaning to me.  What's that called?  Oh that's right, I'm smart, it's called semantic saturation.  He's going to stop playing football right now but that's just the gateway drug into something more terrible. 

Speaking of saturation, when I started this blog I did it because I had a love for sports and the inspiring stories they told.  Years later, I'm not so much sure as I don't love it anymore but if in fact I actually hate it.

If you turn on the television today it will be one last moment in the sun for Peyton Manning, born of NFL pedigree, former number one pick in the draft, two time Super Bowl winner, and holder of all the major and most minor passing records for a quarterback.  This won't be so bad.  He'll thank a lot of people, he'll cry a little, he'll attempt to say something inspiring and some idiots will buy stock, but at the end of the day we'll sweep up confetti. 

This is the end of Peyton Manning as it was the end of Anakin Skywalker when Obi-Wan left him burning and amputated next to the lava pool.  I'm not as naive as Obi-Wan.

The last month was a coronation for Peyton and the next six will be his celebration...and then?
Well, I guess that's up to Ol' Top Heavy himself, but I guarantee that the commissioner views today as "good publicity" and I just sit here in my bunker and gently rock myself back and forth.

Float on, graceful swans, as long as you freakin' can.