Come Back Jerry

Happy 45th birthday to my favorite wide receiver, Jerry Rice.

Now that the pleasantries are over, time for the real reason of this post. Jerry, get your butt back on the football field. I'm serious man. You're only 45. And I'm guessing that you don't smoke weed or go boozing every night like all the guys currently in the NFL, so you're really only like 32. Come on man, at 32 you were still the best receiver in the league.

It's not like you've been doing a lot since you retired. Just this:


And this:


A whole generation of kids are growing up knowing you as the bald guy who lost on Dancing With the Stars. Don't let that be your legacy.

Have you seen the bums who are out there playing receiver for the 49ers now? Those guys couldn't catch a ball if it was covered in duct tape and tossed to them from three feet away.

Come one, Steve's going to need somebody to throw the ball to. (I learned from "Everybody Loves Raymond" that you're not supposed to end a sentence with a preposition, but I don't care.)

Come on, come back and this guy can do your highlight reels. It would be cool.

Boom goes the dynamite.

Hey, don't make me beg. I love you man. You can join me and Steve in our apartment in San Francisco. Ummm, hold on. Scratch that idea. Bad idea. BAD IDEA.