By: C.G. Morelli
I don’t think I’m the only one who’s getting tired of the Tom Brady/Bill Belichick love fest that occurs every Sunday around noon. So far this football season, the bitter taste of Brady’s almost effortless performance has left me speechless and frustrated. But when I heard the following joke the other day in a crowded holiday checkout line, I was left slightly refreshed:
Many years into the future, God layeth down his mighty robes and strapethed on his NFL foam finger. He headed to his own personal 50-yard line seat at his own personal stadium, and readied himself for an exciting week of professional football…played to his specifications, of course. On either side of him was an empty seat for whomever he deemed worthy enough to be his guests at the game.
The Lord had just taken a rather large bite of chili dog and wiped some dribbling cheese-wiz from his chin, when the spirit of Drew Brees came walking down the concourse.
“Do you mind if I sit with you, uhhh, God?” Brees asked sort of confused.
“Well, my son,” said God mildly, “What do you think it is that makes you worthy of such a seat?”
“Uhh…well, during my career I played football like a warrior. I ignored injuries, I lifted my teammates, and I also thanked the guys around me for allowing me to have so much success on the playing field.”
“Hmm,” God responded, “It sure seems like you’ve made your contribution. Please, have a seat on my right.”
Drew obliged and began enjoying the game from the best seats in the house…literally. A few moments later, as God and Drew Brees shared a pile of spicy nachos, another spirit made his way down the concourse.
“Is this seat taken?” asked Peyton Manning with a smile.
“Well, my son,” said God gently, “It is not taken as of yet. However, it is reserved for someone most worthy. Do you think you are that man?”
“I’d have to say that I am,” Manning claimed. “For one, I always made it a point to treat the game like a game and have fun with it. But, at the same time, I remembered that my teammates and my city were counting on me, and I made sure to take it seriously as well. I think I was able to find the perfect balance.”
“That is quite an accomplishment,” said God with a grin, “I believe you are the man to take the seat at my left.” Peyton took his seat and snagged a stray nacho from the plastic tray, and the three miracle men took in the sights and sounds of barbaric poetry ringing from their private playing surface.
They were silent in their observations for a long while, until something from the stands caught their attention. This time, it was the spirit of Tom Brady who was making his way down the steps. There was an awkward moment of silence as the two legendary spectators, and of course God, glanced nervously from Brady to the row of occupied seats and back at Brady again. They simply had nowhere to put him.
Of course, Tom had no intention of missing the game. Do you know what he did?
He looked God directly in the eyes, tucked his very own biblical hairstyle behind his ears, and said, “Hey, buddy, I think you’re in my seat.”