The National Football League Scouting Combine is taking place in Indianapolis as I write this. If you know me, you might expect me to be there. I’m not. I was not invited this year, which is their loss, i.e., the loss of all 32 NFL teams, at least for this week. The draft is still to come.
It is their loss because they are missing out on a perfect physical specimen, namely, me. I am not saying that out of pure arrogance. I have researched it. The average size of linebackers in the NFL is 6’2″, 247 lbs. You can look it up on Google.
Sure, not all are that size. Heights and weights vary among individual linebackers, but statistically, seeking perfection, wouldn’t you say the average is another way of describing perfection, for that position at least?
Who do you think fits that description? That’s correct. It is I. No brag, just fact.
My physician suggested at my annual physical that I lose some weight. Is he kidding? Is he trying to sabotage my NFL career? Is he doing it out of jealousy? What does he think I am, a kicker?
After my careful research, it is obvious that my natural position is linebacker, so I am going to stick with God’s design for me. Now all I have to do is await that call during the NFL draft. The scouts probably did not want me to come to the combine because I am so special, so rarely perfect, that it would be a waste of everyone’s time for me to go through meaningless drills with the poor players who are less than perfect.
I see what is going on and I smile to myself. When my wife foolishly cuts back on my portions, I have to remind her of the importance of keeping my weight up.
So far, so good.