Cajun Boy

Dear Commissioner Mike Slive,

I know this has been a rough month for you. What with everyone suggesting that the SEC officials want to see Florida and Alabama in the SEC championship game no matter what the actual game results might be. Furthermore, I know that generally speaking the SEC’s issue has been with judgment calls, celebration penalties on A.J. Green, personal fouls on some Arkansas defensive players — it’s okay, no one knows anyone’s name that plays for Arkansas other than Ryan Mallet, it will be our secret — missed calls in favor of Florida against Mississippi State, allowing Terrence Cody, the largest man on earth who still resembles a girl, to play without his helmet on. But this latest move, ignoring a clear interception by LSU’s Patrick Peterson, has me steaming mad. What’s the point of instant replay if you’re going to use it and still get the play wrong?

That’s why I’m making you an offer, I will work as instant replay reviewer for any televised SEC game.

For free.

Do you understand what a deal you’re getting here, Commissioner Slive? I will work for the SEC for absolutely free. And I won’t miss any calls.

Zero.

You know why? Two reasons, first, I don’t care who wins the games and, second, because I can watch television replays and tell whether or not people intercept passes. For instance, unlike your replay officials, I watched today’s Alabama-LSU game. And when Patrick Peterson intercepted Greg McElroy with just under 6 minutes to play in the game, I said, “Wow, that’s a hell of an interception.”

You know how I knew?

Because like the rest of America, I saw Peterson catch the football and get not one, but two feet in bounds. That’s one more foot in bounds than you actually need, Mr. Slive. Yet, somehow the man you pay to sit in a booth and watch the replay didn’t see this. He must have been blind … or drunk. Perhaps he was both, so drunk he’d become blind. That’s okay, I’ve been to Galette’s before in Tuscaloosa and gotten that drunk. Although, to be fair, that’s always been after a game.

When I meet a guy I really like, I just go for it and call him dozens of times less than an hour after meeting him. Hey, these things don’t always work out, but you have to take chances for true love. And if that’s not enough to convince you I’m as stable as they come, then tell me this: Could a truly crazy person track down someone after he secretly relocated to Des Moines, for instance? Or, say, a small one-bedroom apartment in Oxnard, CA, if you want another example?

If you think that’s the case, then why don’t you just go ask David or Jonathan or Trevor or David or Rick or Harold or Michael or even David if I’m so David?

Yeah. Crazy like a fox, maybe.

That’s not to say that I have an ideal dating life. Naturally, there are those months when I can’t bring myself to get out of bed, let alone sleep with untold numbers of strange men. But I always snap out of it, and when I’m finally back to my old staying-awake-for-22-hours-a-day self, making up for lost time in the men department is never a problem.