an open letter to tom brady

Tom,

Tommy,

Baby,

I'm sorry, honey.

I've called you some really hurtful names during the last several weeks (pussy, fuckwit and candy-ass loser immediately come to mind), but I want you to know that after yesterday, I'm willing to put past disappointments behind us and start loving you again. Perhaps I was too quick to abandon you, and after your interception-laded debacle versus Indianapolis two weeks ago I don't see how you could really blame me for doing so, but you seem to have turned a corner this week and I know it's because you love me.

But you see, I was starting to doubt your love. You became sloppy, inconsistent and stopped returning my calls. I drafted you for my fantasy football team early and with the loftiest of hopes. Perhaps it's partly my fault; just like most of the East-coast media I put you on a bit of a pedestal and set my expectations unrealistically high. After all, you're only a man - you're not of virginal birth, you do not have muscles made of platinum and, as far as I know anyway, you can not be attributed with laying the basic foundation for democracy in this country or any other for that matter - but you are a fine quaterback, MY quarterback, and I love you, Tommy bear.

Love,
Mrs. White (aka - bea arthur's jock)

P.S. But just to be clear, despite your impressive performance this week you ARE on probation. I don't want to do it, but mess up once more and you'll be permanently warming my bench while Tony Romo gets all my lovin'.

Kisses!