An Open Letter to my Unborn Grandson Explaining the Sport of Football

Dear Unborn Grandson,

Still waiting for the Houston Texans’ upcoming “Divisional Round Dubstep.”

If you are reading this now, two things must have happened. Apparently, a) I have lived like I died, drunkenly paddling a canoe in the buff down the Chicago River, and b) President Malia Ann Obama has outlawed the sport of football in our once-proud United States of America. Luckily for you, I predicted that such travesties would happen — mostly because canuding through the poisonous sludge that is the Chicago River while belligerently intoxicated can have adverse effects on your health — but also because the sport of football was pretty damn dangerous. What follows is all the important knowledge you will ever need to know in order to preserve the memory and history of the sport of football and ensure that you never ever fall prey to the allure of its metrosexual European cousin.

You see, Unborn Grandson, football was the greatest sport ever invented. The perfect combination of brawn and strategy and cheerleaders. Good God, don’t ever let us forget the cheerleaders.

Speaking of God, Yahweh fucking loved football. Just fucking loved it. Loved the sport so much that members of both teams would pray to God, asking for strength, fortitude, a sturdy offensive line, and a guaranteed contract plus incentives. God rewarded good Christians who couldn’t throw a spiral with an impregnable defense, while punishing other franchises with the likes of Cade McNown and Rex Grossman.

God loved football because football fucking ruled. In America, pro football was more popular than if Justin Bieber and cholesterol teamed up with all other major sports combined. No other game combined savage violence with cunning tactics and celebration dances quite like it. The game induced grown men in Philadelphia to throw D-batteries at Santa Claus, wear slices of cheese on their heads as they froze their asses off in Wisconsin, and even every once in awhile travel willingly to Detroit (this, after all, was before the city was overtaken by the mole people).

The athletes who played the game were revered as gods among men. If, you know, the gods were really great at running hitch and go routes and sending pictures of their junk to women they weren’t married to. Even the kickers, whose sole purpose in life was to — you guessed it Unborn Grandson — kick a ball still got laid, an impressive feat for somebody like Sebastian Janikowski.

Back before Google installed screens in all of our heads, we used to watch this magical sport from early Fall until February on things called “televisions,” which showed us the game and expert analysis of the game and hot women drinking shitty beer during breaks in the game. Sidenote: One day, Unborn Grandson, you might think that drinking Busch Light is “hip,” and “retro,” and “ironically hilarious,” but let me tell you, it’s not. All of your little hipster friends in the year 2063 might think it’s really cool to ironically drink your old man’s beer while you listen to Skrillex mp3’s and wear skinny jeans or some shit like that, but those kids have no idea how painful these things were at the time. Just be advised that my will specifically strips you of all rights to my Pokemon card collection if you are ever found Tebowing.

But yeah, TV was pretty great for football, and at the very end of the season, America held a special sacred holiday called Super Bowl Sunday. For one day the entire nation turned its eyes on the two best football teams of the year, who tried very hard to win the championship game and the ensuing confetti and the pretty metal trophy and the rights to wear rings the size of diamond-crusted nuva rings and to cry into Chris Berman‘s microphone. Halftime entertainment featured the very best aging classic rock stars had to offer, and even the occasional rogue booby or floating Usher.

The only thing better than professional football was college football. The college game was as passionate as Sicilians, and its governing body was as corrupt as, well, Sicilians. The rivalries were intense, and the pregames before a noon kickoff were unseemly in the best possible way.

Now, I’m sure grandpop’s alma mater has made quite a name for itself in the future, thanks to alumni like Ross Packingham (Beer Pong Olympic goldmedalist, 2024, 2028) and Chet Haze (Bratz 3D, Forrest Gump 2: Gump n Grind), but we were once a pretty respectable football institution too. We’re talking, like, the 7th most feared Big Ten team.

College football had things called “bowl games” instead of the Super Bowl to commemorate the end of its season. It worked kind of like youth soccer, where almost everybody got a trophy. I can still remember the thrill of victory when Northwestern won its first bowl game since the Rose Bowl, defeating the South Dakota State Jackrabbits in one of the most thrilling Overstock.com Money Grab Bowl in years. Those were the days. Half of the school erupted into celebration while patiently explaining to the other half what a first down was.

But I can only assume that the goddamn liberals and the socialists and the gays and the concussed NFL retirees will collude together to pressure President Malia Obama to ban the sport from America altogether in the near future. I cannot express how tragic of a mistake this will be, on par with our future decision to defrost Walt Disney or replace football with children fighting to the death for our entertainment.

Alright, Unborn Grandson, I hope this letter has reached you well. Please understand how important the sport of football was to all Americans, and don’t judge us too harshly for our cultural transgressions during the YOLO era. Things like twitter and Four Loko seemed like pretty great ideas at the time.

Well, that’s about it. I hope things are well in the future for you and your Roomba overlords. Are they still making teenage fiction about vampires? Has Christopher Nolan won an Oscar yet? How does your generation feel about the Black Keys?

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a river to canude down.

Sincerely,
Evander

5 B-Grade Historical Movies We Can Only Hope Will Be Made

Say "Apartheid" again. SAY "APARTHEID" AGAIN!

5. “A Long Walk to Freedom,” starring Samuel L. Jackson as Nelson Mandela
While Nelson Mandela’s story is known quite well throughout the United States, there are parts of his life that are still shrouded in mystery. This cinematic biography sheds light upon the complete legend of Mandela, from his dabbling in the Jedi arts as a youth (the guy had a lot of fucking midichlorians) to his acting roles in Quentin Tarantino films. During his 27-year prison sentence, he became notorious for being a mediator and peacekeeper; in one memorable instance, he interrupted some good old-fashioned prison shower rape by viciously fending off the perpetrator, asking “Does he look like your bitch?!” The film also delves deep into Mandela’s political activity after his release from prison. In arguably the most poignant scene of the movie, Mandela – in his first speech to the public after his release from prison – proclaims: “I’m tired of this mothafuckin’ Apartheid in my mothafuckin’ country.” Supposedly, Samuel L. Jackson repeatedly tried to add gratuitously violent fight scenes into the film, but was forced to settle for an allotment of twelve “mothafuckas” to add anywhere in the script.

Louis XVI feels the internal repercussions of drinking so much "tiger blood."

4. “Liberty, Fraternity, and Raunchiness,” starring Charlie Sheen as Louis XVI and Sarah Silverman as Marie Antoinette
Adequately described as a combination of Les Miserables, A Tale of Two Cities, and American Pie, this film is the only one to have ever gotten Ebert and Roeper’s worst rating, “Two thumbs up my ass.” As the working class of Paris begins to revolt against the monarchy, Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette respond as any concerned leaders would: by making dick jokes. In fact, as indicated in one of the opening scenes, the phrase “Let them eat cake” was actually a reference to a secondary meaning of cake in the aristocracy, which was “Louis XVI’s wrinkled scrotum.” So Marie Antoinette suggested the poor masses address their severe hunger by eating Louis XVI’s wrinkled scrotum. Most critics agree that the most heinous scene of the movie is either the one where Louis XVI uses the guillotine to circumcise his nephew or the one where Louis XVI does lines of coke off of a rotting peasant carcass. Rumor has it that the director of the movie, Judd Apatow, has already started filming a sequel, featuring Jim Gaffigan as Maximilien Robespierre and Rosie O’Donnell as Napoleon Bonaparte.

I came, I saw, I failed to convince anyone that I'm a credible actor

3. “The Roman Empire: Abridged,” starring Keanu Reeves as Julius Caesar
Predictably failing to accurately portray the manifest heinousness of Caesar, Reeves captivates audiences who happen to be blind and deaf. He effectively delivers his lines with the voice inflection of a 14-year-old skateboarding protégée after taking LSD, and that is quite evident in lines like “Whoa – the Rubicon!” and “It’s, like, the Gallic Wars.” Of course, Caesar’s political strategy doesn’t go over especially well with Brutus (played by Vin Diesel), who had just finished snowboarding down the Matterhorn. In an especially uninspired scene, Brutus knifes Caesar, as the latter famously whispers, “Et tu, bald man who looks like a serial rapist?” The Augustan Era is only very quickly reviewed, with a few memorable lines from the famous emperor Augustus, who – in a rather questionable casting choice – was played by Mike Tyson. After the reign of Augustus, the movie quickly becomes depressing, as we see the rule of Tiberius, Caligula, and Nero, all of whom are played by Nicolas Cage.

Cera, shortly after mispronouncing "clitoris"

2. “A History of Impotence,” starring Michael Cera as several historical figures
This cinematic masterpiece takes us back to the beginning of time, telling the story of the development of the human race through various case studies of sexual ineptitude, with every impotent character portrayed by semi-adolescent boyman Michael Cera. The film opens with a depiction of the Cro-Magnon man first exhibiting a distinct lack of sexual prowess, resulting in a series of unsettlingly detailed cave drawings. The movie proceeds to travel through history, beginning with impotent men such as Nebbuchadnezzar (turns out his obscenely lengthy name was merely overcompensation for his obscenely short dingalong) and Emperor Constantine, lovingly referred to by his subjects as “The 3-Minute Wonder.” Moving on to the Renaissance, we gain some insight into Leonardo da Vinci’s personal life; his famous “Mona Lisa” aimed to portray the woman in the most hideous way possible, as revenge for her publicizing his lifelong problem of chronic premature ejaculation. After exposing a few more renowned impotent historical figures in early modern and modern history (think Lewis AND Clark), the movie ends with an earthshaking reveal about Ronald and Nancy Reagan’s honeymoon.

Sadly, Joseph Kony's fashionable sweater was made by - you guessed it - children.

1. “The Axis of Evil,” starring Jackie Chan as Kim Jong-Il and Ryan Gosling as Mahmoud Ahmadinejad
Based on the best-selling novel by Nicholas Sparks, this film depicts the backstory behind the romantic relationship between these two world leaders. The star-crossed dictators first met in the most fateful of ways: rolling on ecstasy at a Skrillex concert. After an ephemeral but sticky affirmation of their love for each other and authoritarian rule, they make a pact to build an “Axis of Evil.” Kim Jong-Il establishes his rule in North Korea through a masterful implementation of his ancient martial arts skills, while Ahmedinejad seduces dozens of Iranian politicians (all of whom are women, of course, because there are definitely no homosexuals in Iran, and lots of women hold political office) in order to work his way up to the presidency. After separately attaining their positions of power, they embark on an astonishingly homoerotic adventure to find a third party to complete their political threesome, encountering prominent figures like Vladimir Putin (played by Tom Felton), Hugo Chavez (played by Antonio Banderas), and Joseph Kony (played by Bill Cosby).