If you watch NFL games, you know exactly what I mean. The coaches are constantly whispering behind their laminated play sheets. Constantly. And there’s a reason why: My body. My body has several distinctive and, frankly, unflattering features that I am 100% certain in my gut that NFL coaches are gossiping about. Poking fun. Saying nasty things. Next time you watch a football game? Know that coaches are more concerned with these five body imperfections of mine than the game itself.
1. My muffin top
I used to love football. I really did. But one day, I began noticing that NFL coaches would frequently hide their mouths with a clipboard and murmur into their headsets during games. “Hmm,” I thought. “What could they possibly be whispering about during a live football game, of all times?” Then, I looked in the mirror: My love handles made me look like I was overflowing my jeans. I gasped. I had a horrible feeling deep down in my heart, and suddenly I knew exactly what they were whispering about on national television, in plain sight: Me. And my fatness. And my muffin top. Don’t ask me how I know, but I do: All game day long, NFL coaches across the country talk about my rolls and flabs and stretch marks on live TV. They’re not even trying to be subtle about it.
2. My really, really small mouth
I can’t help the fact that my mouth is so small as to be medically problematic. And NFL coaches like the Eagles’ Nick Sirianni and the Rams’ Sean McVay can’t help talking about it. I saw them do it this season. Across the field, instead of focusing on their play calls and their respective offensive strategies, these two coaches held their play sheets over their mouths at the same exact time. What’re the odds? Pretty slim, if you ask me. They were almost definitely chatting about how straws must be a challenge for my hole punch-sized mouth. Which, yes—straws are difficult for me. Anyone who’s seen my face would know that, and it’s clearly an observation Nick Sirianni and Sean McVay have both made. My body is the laughingstock of professional football. You cannot convince me otherwise.
3. My bow legs
I miss when football used to be about winning Super Bowls and not my bow legs. I’d give anything to go back to those days. The game has changed for the worse, if you ask me.
4. My buckteeth
I never did anything to the Buffalo Bills’ Sean McDermott. I’ve done nothing to him. But my instinct has never let me down, and when it says Coach McDermott is only pretending like he’s concerned about getting turnovers and touchdowns, and in reality is just pacing the sidelines, hiding his mouth because he’s speculating about the length of my buckteeth, and how difficult it must make eating due to my aforementioned small mouth, and how I probably scrape my chin all the time when I talk, I have to trust that my gut is right. I have to. Coach McDermott, I know you’re reading this: My buckteeth are my business, and I think the Bills would be doing a lot better this year if you minded your own. If I kill myself, my blood will be on your hands, specifically.
5. My ‘turkey neck’ penis
I can’t stand when my family and friends try to be nice and tell me NFL coaches aren’t chatting about my penis every single Sunday, all season long. It doesn’t make me feel better at all. I understand human nature. If I had a normal penis like Kansas City’s coach Andy Reid, I’d also probably be inclined to talk about someone whose scrotum has so much extra skin that when their penis is erect, it forms a mass of flesh that dangles from their shaft and resembles a turkey neck—and I’d talk about it during a live Chiefs broadcast too. I’d think that putting a little laminated game sheet over my mouth would make that certain someone totally blind to all the gossiping I’m doing about their turkey neck penis. Unfortunately, I don’t have a normal penis like Andy Reid, and instead, I am the subject of his hurtful gossip. Shame on the NFL for allowing this to happen to me.
