In order to understand the absolute high I felt being drafted second overall in the DSFL season 23, you have to see me at my lowest low. When Stan left me for that aerobic instructor bimbo, after I gave him 35 of the best years of my life and one hell of a prom night mind you, I was crushed. I didn’t know what to do; my kids were grown and starting families of their own, I had been a homemaker and now I was adrift, with no purpose; no meaning. I enrolled at Golden Gate University to get my English degree, thinking perhaps I could support myself teaching no good punks not to split infinitives. But as so often happens in life, the tiniest twist of fate really threw me for a loop: I came across a flier offering free cheesecake samples to anyone who tried out for the football team.
I don’t have to tell you how fucking delicious cheesecake is, or how I would do literally anything for that sweet, creamy sensation. So I tried out, and when it came time for tackling, to my surprise, I found that I absolutely loved hitting men. I mean really hitting them. I saw nothing but a line of Stans for me to crush into dust. The rest is history.
Football and cheesecake are the only things that brought me through the darkest time of my life, and I have dedicated every waking moment to them ever since those tryouts. When I heard my name slither off the forked tongue of the Portland GM, it was like a big hug from the universe saying “Hey, you did it. You took a bad situation, you listened to Jagged Little Pill on repeat for a month straight, you gained 100 pounds of pure muscle, and now you’re the baddest mother around.” And brother, let me tell you: The universe ain’t wrong.
P.S. If you're in my English Lit class please, for the love of God, do not use “ain’t” in your papers.
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I don’t have to tell you how fucking delicious cheesecake is, or how I would do literally anything for that sweet, creamy sensation. So I tried out, and when it came time for tackling, to my surprise, I found that I absolutely loved hitting men. I mean really hitting them. I saw nothing but a line of Stans for me to crush into dust. The rest is history.
Football and cheesecake are the only things that brought me through the darkest time of my life, and I have dedicated every waking moment to them ever since those tryouts. When I heard my name slither off the forked tongue of the Portland GM, it was like a big hug from the universe saying “Hey, you did it. You took a bad situation, you listened to Jagged Little Pill on repeat for a month straight, you gained 100 pounds of pure muscle, and now you’re the baddest mother around.” And brother, let me tell you: The universe ain’t wrong.
P.S. If you're in my English Lit class please, for the love of God, do not use “ain’t” in your papers.
[341 words
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![[Image: P9vxkUs.jpg]](https://i.imgur.com/P9vxkUs.jpg)
