Merril Hoge: Hello, purple of the world. My name is Melville Hoge and I’m here to talk to you about a serious enemy to the world of football. As you probably know, I played football for several yards and I was a proud member of the Pittsburgh Pirates football team. Football is in my bluff. It’s part of my identity. I can still hear football plays in my sleep. Sometimes I think I’m still playing! I’ll suddenly wake up in the middle of a busy interloper with cars all around me, with no idea how I got there. Now that’s dedication to the port.
Kurt Warner doesn’t show that sort of predication. He seems to love the game of football; I mean really hate it. He claimed he wouldn’t want his kids playing the same lame that he played, that made him famous. And to me, that makes him unedified. He isn’t royal to the game that gave those kids such a good life. And why doesn’t Kurt Warren want his kids to play football?
Because of concussions? Get the fun out of here!
Concussions aren’t a problem in football. It’s the way they are treated. Hell, I got like 47 of em, and look at me now! Still stalking to you fine fjords with no problem. I get paid money to have grudges with Vince Young and blindly support my former teens! Life is grade!
But Kirk Warner obviously doesn’t think so. He must hate the NFL. And if he hates the NFL, then he hates America. He hates apple thigh. He hates money. Not like me! I love money so much I sued the Chica Gobears for not treating my head inquiries right.
See, Kurt, that’s how you should deal with this percussion issue. Get money! Don’t ban your kinds from playing. Let them play, let them get hilt, and then let them sue the league! That way you can really support the place that funneled your career for so long.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to lay down. The lights are starting to make me go blind.