Cameron. Jerrell. Newton.

The worst human being alive in the contiguous United States and perhaps the world.

The fact that this alleged quarterback has somehow blundered, botched, and freeloaded his way all the way to the Super Bowl is bad enough, but that he has continued to flaunt his egregious, absurd behavior as his defense carries him to a luck-laden first NFL title game should have you all shaking your TV so hard that the rabbit-ear receivers on it fall off (just like mine did last weekend) and your standard def channel surfing is interrupted.

Who exactly does he think he is? I’ve written no less than 14 “Open Letters” to my 38 Facebook friends, but he appears to be too cowardly to respond to my posts. (*Author’s note: Or maybe he doesn’t follow me? I’m not entirely sure how Facebook works, as I’ve only gotten it in the last 6 months so I could keep digital tabs on ex-wife #3)

Not only does he have the audacity to score touchdowns on the field by throwing and running, but he breaches the clearly defined commandments of the game that have been chiseled in stone (and tattooed on my calf) since his holiness Bear Bryant was around making America great, brick by brick.

1) Thou shalt not appear to be enjoying yourself at all.

A true quarterback, a true American, never shows their real emotions. You don’t see the faces on Mount Rushmore smiling, do you?

In fact, my current wife lives by this commandment every time we climb into bed together — even though I can tell she’s totally faking her non-enjoyment of our intimacy — and Cam Newton should remember those words. Act like you’ve been there before, Cam. This isn’t a game you’re playing. It is the single most important aspect of my life.

You don’t see the Pope doing the “dab” when he’s giving mass whenever he is back in his castle in Italy. And the Pope is, like, what? Maybe the 6th best QB around?

2) Thou shalt only scream intensely at everyone you come into contact with on the sidelines, not pose together as if you actually like them in any way.

You don’t see Tom Brady violating this one, do you? That’s intensity. That’s fire. Who cares if he treats a receiver that drops a ball like he’s a Snake on Samuel L. Jackson’s plane, he gets results.

3) Thou shalt remember at all times: football players are solely responsible for the way your children grow up. Not teachers or parents or church people. Nope. It’s the dudes wearing tights and tossing a ball around on Sundays.

And there’s, like, at least 4-5 more of those, but my back is cramping up from trying to see my own calf and I was completely housed on Busch Light when I got it so I don’t remember them off the top of my covered-by-a-trucker-hat head.

The point is this: with legitimate sociological, ethical, and scientific questions surrounding the continued viability of a game that’s future appears murkier the more we know about its long term health ramifications, we must never lose sight of the big picture: some dude who kind of looks like he’s battling a vicious bout of hayfever by politely sneezing into the crook of his arm after out-athleteing the best athletes on the planet is RUINING our game.

Do you have children? Then think of them, for God’s sake.

Don’t have kids to reference when drunkenly tilting your imaginary scale of injustice? Borrow some so you can hold them up as evidence that Cam is the reason they sext one another on Snapchat and think El Chapo is cool. You can use my Astro Van and those Werther’s Originals I offer kids on their way home from school to get them to hang with you.

So, next Sunday remember 2 things:

1.) if you start off a sentence by saying “I’m not racist, but…” anything that happens afterwards is 100% cool. That’s written in the Constitution of the Declaration of Independence or something that was signed by a ton of dead white guys who are all unequivocally great men and are universally above reproach.

And 2.) A TRUE QB is a stone-footed white dude with 28 corporate endorsements who studies the game so hard that his forehead nearly explodes into a capillary forest fire while he’s doing the right thing and respecting the games with his foreward-facing hat on the sidelines.

I’d love to stay and chat longer, but I’ve got to load up my group of girls. They’re performing an original song I wrote for them at Donald Trump’s rally tonight. We’re going to make America great again.

(Here’s a video of their work. Aren’t they adorable?)

FIN