Okay . . . okay, there is a good chance that this will not be coherent or even readable. If I were writing this down with pen and paper, it wouldn’t even be legible. There just would a bunch of scribbled nonsense, a bunch of exclamation points and a horrible drawing of me proposing to Calvin Johnson. I’m writing this now even though my fingers are still shaking from the adrenaline and this is probably a mistake since there is no possible way that I can organize my thoughts in any sort of constructive manner but HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS DID YOU FUCKING SEE THAT???
I have people like my boy Nick tweeting me right now telling me that he would have kissed me on the mouth if I would have been in his living room. I’m pretty sure Charles aka AdamantiumAC is going to end up in jail tonight after the police catch up with him naked, prancing through the streets and Big Al probably had to stick a knife in his toaster in order to jump start his heart. I’ve been ranting and raving about feeling like Jason Statham in Crank and about gnawing on the adrenal gland of cheetahs and The Great Willie Young’s name has been flying around and there is thunder in our fucking hearts, and . . . and . . .
Okay. I’m going to try my best to calm down. It’s probably not happening, but I’ll try. For most of this game I had a whole narrative shaped and as pissed off and whipped as I felt, it would have been easy to write because there was no ambiguity involved. But then things changed and now I don’t know what to write other than wild, raving gibberish. Actually to say that things changed is a ridiculous understatement, a phrase that is essentially devoid of meaning when placed up against the totality of what actually happened. How do you put something like what went down in perspective? Well, you don’t. Instead you just cheer like a goddamn lunatic and you point like a deranged ape and gibber things like “Hey, did you see that???” My eyes look like a cokehead’s right now.
My good pal UpHere summed things up about as well as anybody could right now, I think, when he said “The OLD Lions would have lost on a record setting field goal.” And he’s right. They would have. But these Lions didn’t. Ndamukong Suh – and how appropriate is that – rose from the earth and swallowed up the Raiders last desperate prayer and before that the Lions did what no other team has done in NFL history, scrambling back from two touchdowns down for the fourth time this season to win the game. The old Lions are dead, and the past can go fuck itself.
Are there things to complain about, to worry about going forward? Of course. But only a monstrous ogre would discuss such things right now. I’m still glowing like a goddamn nuclear firework and any negativity I felt during that game has been utterly obliterated.
I am a man who trades in symbolism, as you all well know, and so the way that game ended felt extra special to me. I am beyond being able to explain it right now, and while that may disappoint some of you, I hope you’ll be able to forgive me. I mean, I could try, but I’d quickly degenerate into hoots and grunts as my brain tried in vain to save itself from climbing out of my head and soaring into the sun playing the air guitar and laughing like a damn fool.
Beyond all explanation, here’s all that matters: the Lions are now 9-5, we are mere inches away from a world we’d only dared to whisper about for so, so long, and the world feels like one big Broadway musical, insane and filled with bright colors and I’m pretty sure I just saw someone fly by on a giant guide wire, although that may have just been St. Calvin soaring through on his way back to his house in heaven.
I’m incapable of making sense, of penetrating beneath this perfect surface, and you know what? That’s alright. Sometimes the deeper story is the surface story. And I think this is one of those times. I spent all week gibbering on about letting go of the pathos of the past and now here I am, incapable of doing anything other than basking in the pure primal joy of the present. And that’s just beautiful, you know? Just . . . beautiful.
This is shorter than what I normally write, and I hope you don’t mind, but my heart is a supernova, burning bright and traveling through the universe at the speed of light and in the truth of that, everything else falls by the wayside and words are meaningless and forgettable and the only thing that matters is that right now I feel like I could fly and that, for a single precious, wonderful moment the world feels . . . perfect.