|"If you don't breast-feed him, he'll |
hate you for it later. That's why
we wound up on the Steelers."
We dreamt we were as light as the ether a floatin' spirit, visitin' things to come. The shades and shadows of the players of the NFL wrestled their way into our slumber.
And then we dreamed on, into the future, to a Christmas Eve in a Baltimore stadium, where Colt McCoy was throwing touchdown passes....to Ed Reed.
We saw Tom Brady a few days later, still havin' no luck winnin’ a game in the playoffs.
|"That Welker's a smart one,|
already knows his ABC's."
But still we dreamed on, further into the future than we'd ever dreamed before. Watchin' John Harbaugh's progress from afar, taking pride in his accomplishments. Wondering if he ever thought of us and hoping that maybe we'd broadened his horizons a little even if he couldn't remember just how they got broadened.
But still we hadn't dreamt nothin' about us and Joe, until the end. And this was cloudier, because it was months, months away.