Holy crap there are a lot of people staring at me. God, I look like such an idiot in this t-shirt they made me wear over my sweatshirt. Like that kid in Goonies my mom is always talking about. Chub? Chunk? Charles? Whatever, the fat kid. T-shirt is too long, and if I left it out I’d look like a girl. Why did I tuck it in, it just makes it look like I tucked in my sweatshirt too like some hillbilly. Ugh, this is the worst. All these people staring at the fat kid in the middle of the field. Doesn’t help that everyone says I remind them of when Andy Reid did the Punt, Pass and Kick. I don’t want to coach the Chiefs, they’re damn losers.

Did the kid to my left just fart? I’m already nervous, but if this 6-year-old next to me just sharted I’m going to hurl all over the field in front of everyone. It will be on YouTube before I even get to the tunnel. Hold it together kid, we don’t want to be the losers on YouTube. Eff.

Never thought I’d make it this far. Hell, when I saw how far that girl Breanna from Boise could chuck the ball, I thought I was done for, and I’m not even in her age group or, you know, a girl. At least she’s good, unlike that little peanut standing next to her, Tyler. What a cock. His mom calling him her little “Aaron Rogers” every ten minutes at the dinner last night. He even told his local paper that football isn’t even his favorite sport. Asshat. Go play kickball or something then you little turd.

Okay, something stinks. Really stinks.

Why is this taking so long? I’m dying out here. Oh yeah, extra time talking to the media darling. Ethiopian refugee kid who just learned how to play football ten minutes ago. Guess I can’t be mad at him. He hadn’t even seen an escalator before. Hey, I wonder if they really do send all those preprinted “Super Bowl Champions” t-shirts from the losing teams to Africa. Should I ask him? Would that be rude? Wait, if he just learned about football then he probably never got a Bears Super Bowl Champs shirt. Or did he? Maybe he did know what football was and this is all a lie? Should I tell someone he’s maybe a cheat? Or at least, maybe he shouldn’t get all the attention? I mean, forty of us here and he’s the only one that has an article on the office Punt, Pass and Kick website. That’s some horse pucky, if you ask me.

This stench is unreal. I don’t think this little kid sharted anymore. I think he full-on pooped his pants. I think when they start the next quarter, Marshawn Lynch is going to slip on the poop that fell out of this kid’s pants. Marshawn Lynch is going to slip on this kid’s diarrhea, see I was standing here and come to my house and kill me when they lose the game. He’s going to yell, “I SLIPPED ON YOUR POOP FAT KID” and then I’m going to die. And it’s going to be on YouTube.

The camera is almost at me. At the kid from Flower Mound now. Flower Mound. Sounds like another name for…

Oh christ. Stop thinking about that. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. I’M IN TRACK PANTS NO NO NO NO STOP IT NOW. FUCK. Thinkofthepoopsmellthinkofthepoopsmellthinkofthepoopsmellthinkofthepoopsmell. Oh god, please. Okay. Okay. God, please. Okay. Think nothing moved. Okay. Think I’m okay.

Camera. Smile. Nod. Yes. Happy to be here standing in a front of 80,000 people in the Georgia Dome. Everyone’s clapping for me. Am I smiling? I don’t even know anymore, I think I’m going to pass out. This is it. My moment in the sun. It’s not going to get any better than this for the rest of my life. Am I smiling?

Please be over soon, I can’t take the stress any longer. I just want tear-off this damn t-shirt, go home, play Madden and forget this ever happened.