I would like to apply for the position of quarterback. This is not meant as a dig at the other two players who spent the offseason vying for the starting job, Kevin Kolb or John Skelton—well, maybe at Kolb—but rather, it’s the little matter of wanting the team to win several games in a row. Or maybe even clinch the lightweight NFC West, or possibly rack up something better than last season’s skin-of-the-teeth 8-8 record.
Having watched football since birth, and Cardinals football since the team moved to Arizona in 1988, I feel certain that I’m the right woman for the job. Don’t get caught up on the gender thing, Whiz, Shannon Eatin just refereed an NFL game, and she’s also from Arizona. Glass-ceiling-dome broken.
Here’s the thing. I can hit Larry Fitzgerald. It’s irrelevant that I’m 5-8, nearsighted and tore my rotator cuff reaching for the remote last spring; he’s Larry F-ing Fitzgerald. He can catch a flaming barrel cactus tossed from the moon. I don’t know why those other quarterbacks can’t hit him, but let’s not quibble, they probably feel bad enough. I promise that if you put me in the game, with Beanie Wells rolling alongside the new additions—running back Ryan Williams and wideout Michael Floyd—I can move that offense.
My freaking cat could move that offense. And frankly, neither of us wants to sit on the couch again this season in our Cardinals jerseys, drinking PBR and shredding our sportsbook tickets because of some inexplicably long absence of a decent quarterback. The 2008 Super Bowl season seems like a lifetime ago, Coach. I’ll play for a fraction of the average NFL salary, and I won’t even host dogfights or start nightclub brawls. I’ll just hit Larry Fitzgerald with the football before he gives up and retires.
I’m looking forward to working with you.
Stacy J. Willis