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AJ (shaking his head but smiling): Well, let's just say that I don't think she belongs in the NFL at all.
Courtney: Wow. You kiss your wife with that mouth?
AJ: No, no. I didn't mean it like that. It's just that when you take on something as important and central as owning an NFL team, you thrust yourself into the public eye. And the public will want to see someone who upholds the moral fiber that they expect in women - who are supposed to be the better halves of men.
Courtney: Let me see if I'm understanding this...
AJ: I'll make it really clear Courtney. I don't have a problem with a woman running a football team. I just think if she's going to be a role model to other women, then she needs to figure out how to have a less salacious private life. Because like it or not, Julianna Heaton is a role model to my daughter. And I don't want her to grow up and be a slut.
Courtney: Now wait just a second!
AJ (holding up his hand): No, let me finish. I have no objection to her behavior at all. As a private citizen she's free to do whatever she wants. But the moment she puts herself under the microscope, she needs to place her own life on hold and uphold what society tells her is the moral code that we live by.
Courtney: So, coming back to the initial question. Do you think the actions that we've witnessed with Colt, Ethan, and Julianna will negatively impact their play on Monday against the Stepbrothers in San Francisco?
16
Colt
Monday night. America’s night. Lights. Cameras. Crowds.
Football.
I love every single fucking minute of this game.
But tonight, I seriously consider maybe finding a new line of fucking work.
The clock was winding and I snap the ball, heading back, looking for my receivers.
Too late. The Stepbrothers Defense has been on us like nothing else all night and broke past my right tackle.
I have maybe two seconds. But before I can do anything I see fucking stars. Pain shoots through my entire fucking body and I fall towards the ground.
My brain registers what happens without words. Someone must have gotten through and come up my blind side.
They got around the left tackle.
I land on the ground, trying to keep the football. I can’t let go of the football.
I fail.
It leaves my hands and bounces off.
That’s probably the only thing that saves my life. There’s a pileup of guys that fall on the ground, chasing the fucking ball.
But I’m past caring at this point. I take a few deep breaths, moving my legs and arms to see if everything is working. It’s good.
The pain subsides. Nothing broken. Nothing torn.
I stand up and realize that that we’ve turned over the ball.
Fucking again.
With a sigh, I run off the field as Ethan leads the defense out.
This has got to be like the ninth time we’ve traded spots on the field.
Ethan hasn’t spoken to me since the night he and I both had Julianna. In fact, he up and left before we could do anything more. Like a fucking light switch went off after he came.
