Welcome to Atlanta, Byron Leftwich. I really have been remiss in formally welcoming you on this blog. Frankly, I'm so bitter about the Falcons I can't see straight. Anyway, hey. Don't forget to open doors for ladies, wait for ladies to get off elevators first and drink Coke, never Pepsi.
But you see what kind of mess you've got into, Byron?
The Falcons are terrible. We lost to the Carolina Panthers in the home opener that only featured about 70% occupancy. (B, can you save us from blackouts next year?) The media blames DeAngela Hall. Hooray, the nickname is out of retirement! But I think the media is being unfair to DeAngela. DeAngela is not responsible for the Falcons loss. Because, the odds are, the Falcons were going to lose anyway. And what kind of ship is Petrino where a player feels like he can scream on the head coach and assistant coaches on the sideline? DeAngela was out of control well before the 67th yard of penalty. If Petrino was paying attention, the coach might have pulled him before hand. But I guess he's been too busy being a offensive genius.
But I have sympathy for DeAngela. Youngsters often lash out when their quarterback figures are absent from the Dome. DeAngela misses Michael Vick. Whether DeAngela is fined and/or suspension, he just needs understanding.
The real number 7, Michael Vick (no, not you, B-Money), was the best quarterback in the world. No, I'm not just saying that out of romantic revisionist wistfulness. It's true.
Michael Vick isn't doing much this week, except stressing over a local indictment. Well, not really stressing. He's finding new ways to relax. In his down time, he's been getting mani pedis to unwind and destress. When you haven't been putting the football wear and tear on the footsies, regular pedicures do wonders. Plus, those massage chairs are fucking awesome. Michael has been experimenting with toe color. Black toe polish is de rigeur for men who are willing to try such things, but a little color never hurt anybody. Mike is just experimenting with one of those Chanel deep reds. Yeah, dark colors chip alot, but a polish change is just another excuse to get in those massage chairs. They are fucking awesome. And who will know? Michael used to be worried about what his friends thought. But friends snitch. A good mani pedi is a little over $30, but the joy of staring at pretty toes before you fall asleep is priceless.
Looking back, I can't remember a single misthrown pass, a single interception, a single bad scramble, a single injury or any bad decisions at all on Michael Vick's part. He was perfect. Now he's gone. Good luck with that, Byron. See you soon!