Grow up DeSean

Dear DeSean Jackson:

Although I love that fact that you are probably the fastest thing on two legs and that you are an employee of my team, The Philadelphia Eagles, I would totally appreciate it if you grow up.  Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing bad about celebrating on the field when you’ve just ran, what 81, 91 yards for a touchdown, but seriously, the falling back in the end zone?  I mean seriously?  Just play the game.  Not too long ago you weren’t really doing anything on the field.  You dropped passes, missed routes, you even got called out by your coach.  Look, I love your explosiveness, I even love your attitude (even when it’s funky), but you need to calm down on the excessive celebration (which cost your team 15 yards) and get down to business.  It’s funny because I said to my boyfriend, “what happens if the defense goes out and gets an interception or a fumble and he’s over there on the sidelines needing oxygen, falling all over the ground?  What he is going to do then when he has to go back out there?”  Low and behold the defense does their job and gets a turnover.  Now you have to go out there gassed with rubber legs, all because you wanted to be a highlight on SportsCenter.  Well I’m here to tell you DeSean, you want to get big boy money then start acting like a big boy.

Brady's Mop

Dear Tom Brady:

Everybody else may be sniffing your jockstrap, but not me.  I don’t like you.  Sure you’re breaking records, yes you are probably going to win MVP, it’s most likely that you’ll even go to the Super bowl and win, because apparently the who’s who in the sports world think so.  Well I don’t care, I still don’t like you.  I don’t like your uniform, I don’t like your smile, and I don’t like your wife or even your silly haircut.  You have everybody else fooled, thinking you are the ultimate golden boy, but you can’t be this perfect, nobody is.  Yes I may just be angry because my team can’t have the amount of success that your team has, but I don’t care, I still don’t like you.  You may be the best there is, but I can’t jump on the wagon.  I won’t jump on the wagon.  Maybe it’s because you won’t cut that mop upon your head because your wife said so, but when you were thanking everyone under the sun after the Thanksgiving game against the Lions, you could barely remember you had one.  Or maybe it’s because you bitch and moan when a defender touches you with the tip of his finger.  I don’t know what it could be, but I just don’t like you.

There's no pouting in football Mark

Dear Mark Sanchez:

Pick yourself up off the floor, dust yourself off, look yourself in the mirror and say “I am a NFL Quarterback.”  You are on the verge of becoming a joke.  You know how many 23-year-olds would kill to be you?  Stop pouting and get your head in the game.  You have ups and you have downs, that’s how the game goes.  Sunday, versus the Dolphins, you looked so defeated and you did it to yourself.  Your teammates look to you to be a leader.  If you want to be considered an upper level QB, then you need to become the presence on the field that you’ve been conditioned to be.  No longer can you fall upon the sword of novice because you are now a veteran.  Look at your mistakes and learn from them or you will become just another overrated wanna be quarterback who never lived up to the hype.

Stephanie C. Curry, Guest Blogger for War Room Sports