"Did you enjoy that?" said Newton to his teammates, as each nodded in kind. "I did too. I love scoring touchdowns. I love watching our defense stop people from scoring touchdowns... and I like it even better when they bail me out after a bad throw." Newton slaps the shoulder pad of Kurt Coleman, giving a nod to his acrobatic interception of Carson Palmer just before the half ended.

"But, you know what I didn't like?" said Newton, to the attention of everyone in earshot. "I didn't like leaving last weeks game with the same amount of footballs I had at halftime. You see... I love giving out footballs. The little girl I gave one to in the first half whose face lit up like a christmas tree? I live for that. Hell, I almost shed a tear. I love knowing that that football will live on a person's bookshelf or mantle for the rest of their life. That one day, when I'm dead and gone, they'll tell their grandkids about how Cam Newton threw a touchdown and chose them out of tens of thousands of people to have it."

Newton paused, all eyes on him.

"I want to live forever on a bronze plaque in Canton... but I'm not a man of bronze. I'm a man of steel."

"Steel is the working man's metal. Steel is the blood, sweat, and tears of every person who finds a way to afford a ticket to come and see us play. Steel is sturdy and hardened... just like our team. How many skyscrapers do they build out of bronze? None. They may adorn them with bronze... but the heart of that building is in its steel beams, its concrete blocks reinforced with steel rebar, and the steeled nerves of the people who built it each day until completion."

"Gentlemen. Our skyscraper is nearly complete."

"Each and every one of us are men of steel, forged in the heat of Spartanburg, South Carolina, and molded to perfection by our expert architects to withstand all the challenges laid before us." Cam pauses and motions to each of the coaches in the room, along with general manager Dave Gettleman.

"WE have built a structure so solid, that lesser men envy it. Lesser men wish they had it. They covet it... and since they don't have it, they do whatever they can to belittle it or slander it. We post their faces on this bulletin board every week... and we mock them. We mock them with each yard we gain, and each score we prevent... because they are men of paper. They have no substance... and are easily discarded."

"WE would do ourselves, and all our fans a disservice, to be content with our first half achievements today. I will not stand for another night of wondering how I could have done more. I will not play this game with paper and bronze... and you won't either. We will be aggressive. We will be ruthless. We will give all of ourselves... more than the Cardinals can take, and we will CRUSH THEM."

"For we are men of substance, men of unwavering tenacity... We are...

Newton paused, and there was a brief silence.

"Men of Steel." came a thundering voice from the training table.

"Yes we are, Mr. Davis, yes we are." he said with a smile.

"Let's blow the lid off this place. All men of steel put your hard hat on and get a hand on this football."

The crowd of players tightened on Newton.

"Men of steel on three. 1-2-3.."

"MEN OF STEEL!"

The huddle broke, and each player grabbed their gear and trotted back out to the field. As they filed out, Josh Norman stopped in front of Cam and said "Ya'll may be men of steel... but I'm Batman."

Newton laughed, "You do you, Josh."

Newton stood still clutching the football in his hand and was the last one to leave the locker room. As he walked down the electric blue illuminated tunnel he tossed the football up and down to himself a few times, before stopping at the precipice of the big bright lights of "The Bank."

"I wonder who this one will belong to?" he muttered to himself in his moment of silence and short prayer, before running out of the tunnel and onto the sidelines. The noise was deafening...

"MVP! MVP! MVP!"

The kickoff sailed through the end zone, and the offense took the field. The men were back to work, their hard hats on and victory on their minds. Newton took his place behind center and scanned the field before his eyes stopped on a little boy in the stands. He didn't realize at first what he'd done, but when you do something often enough, sometimes your brain gets the better of you.

He flashes that bright white smile, and puts his hands out in front of him...

"Readaaaaayyyyyyy....."