trickblue
Not Old School...Old Testament...
- Messages
- 31,439
- Reaction score
- 3,961
Link
Dear Antonio Ramiro (Tony) Romo,
This is an open letter to tell you how much I hate you. Hate is a strong word, severe dislike is probably more accurate, but you play for the Dallas Cowboys, so hate is what you get. You'll probably never read this, maybe some of your troll fans will, but hopefully you can pick up the vibe when you visit December 30th.
My beloved team, the Commanders, has had some success against the Cowboys the past two years. Before that, it was a dark time, a time that I never want to revisit. One recent constant however, was that we could be pretty sure a Cowboys quarterback wouldn't personally beat us. Sure, an aging Emmitt Smith would still somehow rumble for 150 yards against us (out of his 600 total for the season) but we wouldn't have to worry about Quincy Carter or Drew Bledsoe.
Now you have taken that comfort from me, and this is why I hate. I hate you for being an undrafted free agent in 2003. Couldn't you have at least cost the Cowboys a draft pick? I'm not asking for much here, but maybe a 3rd rounder, possibly a 4th? I hate you for replacing Drew Bledsoe, who was guaranteed to shoot the Cowboys in the foot at least once or twice a game, and dependably be in the pocket on every play for our D-Line to tee off on.
I hate you for being a scrambler who makes plays. I especially hate it when the ball gets snapped over your head, you kick it another ten yards, and then you turn and scramble and still make a first down. If you're going to scramble like that, can't you at least have a 45% completion rate like Michael Vick used to?
I hate you for being relatively young, and leaving the Cowboys set at the QB position for years. I hate your damned smiling, happy-go-lucky press conferences, where you fire off jokes and act like you don't have a care in the world. I hate the smiling, happy-go-lucky faces you make on the bench during the game when you've thrown another touchdown, that everything is going so damned perfect for you.
I hate the fact that though Jason Campbell will eventually be a better quarterback than you are, he's not quite there yet. I hate that I have to deal with it. Revenge will be sweet, but it's a little ways off.
I hate the fact that you are (or were) nailing Carrie Underwood and I'm not, because DAMN!
Most of all, I hate the fact that you and your team are 4-0 and look pretty good this year. After the past couple of years, and the way my Commanders are coming together, I was pretty confident that we could take you. Five minutes behind the bleachers and we'd have your lunch money and given you a black eye for posterity. Now I'm forced to consider alternate possibilities, and I don't like having to do that.
That Mr. Romo, is why I want Andre Carter to wear your spleen for a hat. It's why I envision the Commanders wearing all white uniforms with a touch of red, the red being spatters of blood from your broken nose. December 30th, you're coming to our house, and I want you as uncomfortable as possible without bringing spinal injuries into it (I'm not that angry.) Please do me a favor and don't show up that day. I will send Mike Sellers to your hotel room the night before if necessary, but don't show up. I smell blood...your blood...and I want my Commanders to bathe in it.
Yours
Phoward12
Dear Antonio Ramiro (Tony) Romo,
This is an open letter to tell you how much I hate you. Hate is a strong word, severe dislike is probably more accurate, but you play for the Dallas Cowboys, so hate is what you get. You'll probably never read this, maybe some of your troll fans will, but hopefully you can pick up the vibe when you visit December 30th.
My beloved team, the Commanders, has had some success against the Cowboys the past two years. Before that, it was a dark time, a time that I never want to revisit. One recent constant however, was that we could be pretty sure a Cowboys quarterback wouldn't personally beat us. Sure, an aging Emmitt Smith would still somehow rumble for 150 yards against us (out of his 600 total for the season) but we wouldn't have to worry about Quincy Carter or Drew Bledsoe.
Now you have taken that comfort from me, and this is why I hate. I hate you for being an undrafted free agent in 2003. Couldn't you have at least cost the Cowboys a draft pick? I'm not asking for much here, but maybe a 3rd rounder, possibly a 4th? I hate you for replacing Drew Bledsoe, who was guaranteed to shoot the Cowboys in the foot at least once or twice a game, and dependably be in the pocket on every play for our D-Line to tee off on.
I hate you for being a scrambler who makes plays. I especially hate it when the ball gets snapped over your head, you kick it another ten yards, and then you turn and scramble and still make a first down. If you're going to scramble like that, can't you at least have a 45% completion rate like Michael Vick used to?
I hate you for being relatively young, and leaving the Cowboys set at the QB position for years. I hate your damned smiling, happy-go-lucky press conferences, where you fire off jokes and act like you don't have a care in the world. I hate the smiling, happy-go-lucky faces you make on the bench during the game when you've thrown another touchdown, that everything is going so damned perfect for you.
I hate the fact that though Jason Campbell will eventually be a better quarterback than you are, he's not quite there yet. I hate that I have to deal with it. Revenge will be sweet, but it's a little ways off.
I hate the fact that you are (or were) nailing Carrie Underwood and I'm not, because DAMN!
Most of all, I hate the fact that you and your team are 4-0 and look pretty good this year. After the past couple of years, and the way my Commanders are coming together, I was pretty confident that we could take you. Five minutes behind the bleachers and we'd have your lunch money and given you a black eye for posterity. Now I'm forced to consider alternate possibilities, and I don't like having to do that.
That Mr. Romo, is why I want Andre Carter to wear your spleen for a hat. It's why I envision the Commanders wearing all white uniforms with a touch of red, the red being spatters of blood from your broken nose. December 30th, you're coming to our house, and I want you as uncomfortable as possible without bringing spinal injuries into it (I'm not that angry.) Please do me a favor and don't show up that day. I will send Mike Sellers to your hotel room the night before if necessary, but don't show up. I smell blood...your blood...and I want my Commanders to bathe in it.
Yours
Phoward12
