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AARON RODGERS AARON RODGERS!

Aaron Rodgers aaron rodgers, aaron rodgers aaron rodgers (AARON RODGERS!) aaron rodgers! Aaron Rodgers?

Aaron. Rodgers.

By one sports network’s count, there are exactly eight NFL teams that have not publicly declared “no interest” in signing Michael Vick, one of which happens to be the Green Bay Packers. They’re seriously considering picking up Vick, and I think such a signing would be a good move–for them.

The Packers Can Take The PR Hit.The Packers have arguably the most rabid pro sports fanbase in America, and in the smallest city to lay claim as home to such a team (we’re not counting Salt Lake City, fucking LDS freaks). The waiting list for Packers tickets is over 50,000 names deep. That’s fan devotion that could withstand a little fucking with. Besides, with the Favre saga seemingly at its end, it would be a shame to let the high bullshit tolerance of Packer Nation go unutilized.

Green Bay has no depth under center whatsoever. Packer backups Matt Flynn and Brian Brohm have one year each of experience, and no starts between them. The brass must have been sniffing some badass glue when he decided to throw Aaron Rodgers on the field for his first career start last season with literally nothing but a couple of warm bodies behind him. The obvious rub for Green Bay here is that they’ll have to dispose of one of the two quarterbacks that they drafted just 16 months ago.

Playing In Wisconsin Gets Vick Out Of The House. Getting out of Virginia, where Vick spent years playing Doggie Don King, is only gonna do that guy some good. Hanging out in the middle of nowhere, with crackers at every turn, might be the shot in the arm that the three-time Pro Bowler needs. Oh sure, all of the staring and sounds of locking car doors will get old after a while, but that’s standard integration procedure here in America. Whoops, did I just call America “integrated?” My bad.

Signing Vick Totally Fucks With Aaron Rodgers. I really should like Aaron Rodgers; he’s one of the prime reasons that Brett Favre is currently sitting on his couch instead of some other team’s future. And it was Rodgers that stayed in the green room as he continued to slide down the board during the 2005 draft, as opposed to noted man-bitch Brady Quinn who ran out with his flight attendant girlfriend just two years later. Michael Vick has the potential to unseat Rodgers, or at least gerrymander the psyche of that team in trying. As it was in the 2005 draft, that’s drama that I want to see.

Sure, it’s not a perfect scenario: Vick would never get a true chance to compete for the starting job, and he’d probably prefer to play someplace where being black isn’t a Class 3 Misdemeanor. But Vick To Green Bay falls on the more feasible side of the sanity scale. The reality is that we may not see Vick suit up at all on Sundays, which would be annoying. If Green Bay has taught us anything, it’s that following quarterbacks that aren’t committed to a team is the most irritating pastime ever. Here’s hoping the Pack will spare us one more go-round of that.

FAT GUY IN TRACK SUIT [in booth eating pizza]: You Jimmy?

JIMMY: Yeah.

FAT GUY: Yeah, that’s some hat, kid. Ah, what the hey. Siddown, why doncha?

JIMMY: Thanks. [sits down]

FAT GUY: Here, have a slice. Four cheeses on this pie. Best in the state. Fuggetaboutit. Hey, Jimmy. Jimmy, don’t look so nervous, eh? Come on, Jimmy, have a slice.

JIMMY: I’m alright. Thanks.

FAT GUY: So, uh, you need some taking care of someone in your organization? That’s what our mutual friend said to me. So who we lookin’ at here?

JIMMY: So you guys? You, uh, k–

FAT GUY: Shhhshhh, Jimmy. Do me a favor and shuddafuggup, okay? We don’t use that word. We take care of people. You know, like an escort service. ONLY THEY’RE THE ONES THAT GET BLASTED!!! [slaps table] HAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHA!

JIMMY: Haha, yeah, that wasn’t really funny…

FAT GUY: I can see you’re really nervous, Jimmy. And let me tell you somethin, okay? Some people…they just deserve it. We don’t ask questions, we just make your life easier…for a price. Now come on, eat some pie.

JIMMY: No, really. I’m good.

FAT GUY: It’s delicious. Four cheeses.

JIMMY: No.

FAT GUY: [cocks gun under the table] Eat it.

[Jimmy takes a slice and eats it]

Alright, alright, no more funny stuff. Down to business. So what’s the occasion? The UPS man fuckin’ your wife? Somebody makin’ trouble near yo’ residence? Who’s the man o’ the hour?

JIMMY: [pulls out photo] This guy…

FAT GUY: I see. Well, a person of this high profile is going to cost a little extra.

JIMMY: I don’t care. This might be the only way I, uh, I mean Aaron gets to play.

FAT GUY: Alright, the final price tag is gonna be–

[door flies open]

T. J. HOUSHMANZADEH: Hey.

FAT GUY: What the fuck do you want?

JIMMY: Get out of here!

T. J. HOUSHMANZADEH: Aaron Rodgers. You play for the Red Wings, right?

AARON RODGERS: No, I’m Jimmy. I’m–

T. J. HOUSHMANZADEH: Do you have anything to drink?

FAT GUY: I’m gettin’ outta here. [gets up and leaves]

AARON: Thanks a lot, you Persian fuck. I just went through all of this for nothing.

T. J. HOUSHMANZADEH: Okay, bye.

Dear Scrotal Seam,

Since you won’t return my phone calls, and you refuse to use a computer for anything other than acquiring Canadian pharmaceuticals, I figured my only recourse is to send you this letter. They do have postal service in Bumfuck, Mississippi, don’t they?

Listen, I understand that you love the game and all of the media fellating you reap as a result of your play, but if you have this “itch” to come back you could have at least dropped me a line. I don’t even care if you play this year, in fact, I think it would be pretty fucking great. With all this football crap going on I’ve fallen way behind in my regimen of naps and vacations over the past two off-seasons. All I’m asking is that you stop dicking me around like this year after year.

If you need me for any reason I’ll be doing the same thing I do during every training camp, sneaking over to your house during film study and butt-fucking Deanna on your freshly mown lawn.

Yours In Christ,
Aaron Rodgers