Hey there, bro! Before you ask, no I don’t sit down, I stand in front of a high-priced chair for the entire duration of this television program. It’s part of my overall broadcasting contingency plan should I pass out from thinking too hard. I won’t take my shirt off, but I won’t put any sleeves on either. Consider that a compromise of sorts, tailored to the preferences of the viewers at home. The temperature in here is highly controlled by several of my producers.
I know a thing or two about sports. Maybe not two. But I did play professional football. Was I skilled position? Did I get hit a lot? Did I have to be fast? Throw far? No, no, no and well, no. I punted. I was a punter. The guys who get a different helmet. This experience has inflated my ego like a standard issue Wilson. I have been in the trenches, thirty yards behind any tacklers, but you get the idea.
I am not worried about developing any cognitive ideas, although you’ve probably noticed that the show’s subjects are not too hard on the brain. I couldn’t have afforded to play a position where the cerebellum was vulnerable. I certainly wouldn’t be hosting this show. Lots of shows disagree, we tend to agree. Lots of shows interrupt each other, we nod along and look at our phones into and out of commercial breaks.
Jocks have long been accused of being stupid, just not about sports. I prefer being stupid about everything. It’s much easier that way.
I get paid a ton, so I could afford lots of shirts. But I also have integrity, which prevents me from changing my look. I don’t really get my appeal. I don’t say anything interesting, I don’t offer any real analysis, and I’m not that funny. I’m a middle of the road guy in the middle of the afternoon.
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