Why I Quit the Cowboys: By Drew Bledsoe
Hi everybody. Drew Bledsoe here. I wanted to make an announcement before the rumors start to get out of hand: Today I have decided to part ways with the Dallas Cowboys.
It feels so good to write my first blog post as a free agent! I feel like a swinging bachelor again No cares… no concerns… no worries. True Story: Earlier today, I got home and my son ran towards me to give me a hug. I just shoved him out of the way, grabbed a Burger outta the fridge, and left the house again. Can you possibly fathom how liberating that felt?!
t’s only been 12 hours since I marched into Jerry’s office and demand he cut me, but it feels like a lifetime. I’ve even stopped cutting my hair and shaving (which I normally do twice a day.) The freedom I am feeling right now… it’s… indescribable. It’s like eating a Burger for the first time after taking a day off Burgers.
So how did it happen? Well, you’ll hear many things on SportsCenter tonight. Stuff like “This was a salary cap decision.” That’s not true. What do I care if the Cowboys are over the salary cap? That’s not my problem. That had nothing to do with why I demanded to get cut.
I quit the Cowboys because a future Hall of Famer has no place on the bench. I quit because there aren’t enough Burgers in the world to hire me as Tony Homo’s mentor and coach — not with only 15-20 years left on this arm.
You should have seen this meeting you guys. It was a little sad. I mean, have you ever seen a billionaire beg before? There he was, the owner of the Dallas Cowboys literally getting down on his hands and knees, trembling before me, pleading that I stay for one more season.
I told him straight up: thanks but no thanks. I explained I had a date with Destiny (that’s my wife’s nickname) and no time left in my busy day to wipe tears off my shoes.
That’s when it got really sad — He lunged at my ankle and held on, hoping to act as a human anchor.
I told him, “Jerry, get up.”
“No!” he replied, “Not until you promise to stay.”
“Jerry, you’re scratching my shoes you Botoxed piece of ****. Get up!”
“NO!!! Please!!! How would you like a ten pound Burger! With a bun made out of ground beef?”
“You mean another one?”
“I’m so sorry Drew! I fired that idiot Parcells for starting Homo. I made a huge mistake! I admit that!”
Then I stared at him. Knowing that my next words would be the last he would ever hear me say, I decided to pick them wisely.
“Go **** Yourself, Dick-Bag.”
I kicked him into the wall and power-walked out of his office. Out of his life. Out of the Cowboys. I was a free man. And I felt good.
So what’s next for me?
As of now, I’m enjoying the time off. I’ve taken up several hobbies since I became a free agent this afternoon. I can now sail. I’m a PADI certified SCUBA instructor. And most recently, I’ve been acknowledged as a fifth degree level dungeon master at D&D. I’m also taking painting classes.
I know the time will soon come for me to look at the grand all-you-can-eat buffet containing the other 31 teams in the league and make my decision. But as of now I’m not trying to think about it.
Obviously, certain teams need me more than others. The Patriots would be a great fit, and a natural next step for me. The Colts, another team who is certainly high on my radar just because they posess everything needed to win a SuperBowl. I just feel the pieces are in place to make a championship run.
I mean, you could make a case for any team. But for now, I’m just enjoying single life, you know? It feels good to be back!
Anyway, my thirty minutes at this internet cafe are almost up, I just wanted to check in, clear the air, and let everybody know Drew Bledsoe is still kicking ***!
And if anybody has a couch I can crash on, I’ll gladly autograph it or whatever in the morning. I just… please. Please I need this. Dont… give up on me.
Cool.
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