An Open Letter to Johnny Manziel

Dear Johnny,

I originally wasn’t going to write you this letter, but I happened to catch your Monday night debut against the Redskins this week and felt compelled to say something before the regular season gets going. I may not be an authority on how one might go about being a respected, high-profile athlete who is always in the public eye (proof: as I sit here in my basement without any pants on typing this, not one paparazzo has taken a scandalous photograph of me. That doesn’t mean I won’t take such a photograph myself and put it on Instagram later, however I digress), but anyways, here’s what I really want to say:

I am extremely concerned that you’re not on track for sustained NFL success in the wake of the calamity that was your Monday night start. I know it must be hard to hear this, especially considering that you probably stayed out until 4 am at some godforsaken nightclub that made you lose a little bit of your hearing, but the reality is this: you play for a franchise that knows as much about winning as Chris Christie knows about healthy eating habits. That being said, it shouldn’t stop you from breaking the trend. Unfortunately, if you continue on your current path, the only thing you’ll be breaking is the record for how many times per second one man can be called a douchebag on the Internet.

As I’m sure you’re well aware, there’s a distinct difference between what close friends/scantily-clad members of your entourage might think is “cool” and what the average person who isn’t famous thinks is cool. For example, you know that “money” pose you do sometimes when every single camera within a 500-mile radius is pointed at you? That might impress any number of individuals (i.e. – blind people and Kanye West), but the regular, hardworking United States citizen would be more impressed if there were actual money between your fingers when you do that. If you rubbed actual cash together, it would not only signify your accomplishment of the eternally-elusive American dream, but you’ll also make Donald Trump’s hair stand on end, and really, who doesn’t want to see his hair do something other than pretend to be a piece of roadkill?

Honestly, that’s just the tip of the iceberg. There are several other missteps that are contributing to your declining public image, which include (but are not limited to): excessive partying, alleged cocaine use, flaunting a blatant disregard for basic good taste and, worst of all, willingly allowing yourself to be photographed with Justin Bieber. To be clear, I’m not at all offended by any of these activities, but it definitely will offend the average NFL fan, who’s idea of a good time is drinking shitty light beer and trying to digest those sausages that Steve brought to the pre-game tailgate party. What I’m trying to say is that there’s a time and a place for everything … well, except taking a selfie with Bieber. I mean, come on – what were you thinking?

Speaking of thinking, a lot of people who watched Monday night’s game are trying to make sense of your “one finger salute” that you directed at the Redskins bench during the second half. While I don’t exactly blame you for making the gesture that you did (I mean, who wouldn’t want to flip off a group of guys who knowingly wear jerseys that have a racial slur stitched on to the front of them), I would also urge you to consider the consequences of such an action. A casual fan might think you don’t respect your coach, your teammates or the organization you represent on the field – perhaps even the league as a whole. Also, let’s be honest – real NFLers don’t settle disputes with rude hand gestures like that. They use adult male methods of problem-solving, like domestic abuse and murder. Hell, Ray Rice was even given a standing ovation by Baltimore after he beat his wife – why would you shy away from that kind of treatment and insist on doling out middle fingers like STDs at a Motley Crue concert? I can feel your image taking another hit as I wrote that last sentence …

I’m not saying that this makes you a terrible quarterback, or even a terrible person, but I’m just trying to show you how quickly football careers can go downhill. Look at a guy like Marc Sanchez: a hightly-touted player coming out of college, picked to be the saviour of a struggling franchise, and do you know what his legacy is now? The biggest moment of his career occurred when his head was buried in another man’s ass – a moment that not only signalled the end of his career as a starting quarterback in the NFL, but also saw him invited to every single party at Richard Simmons’ house for the rest of the year. As scary a prospect as this is, I know you’ll be able to avoid this kind of embarrassing situation, but only because you’ll be too busy doing lines off of whatever female body parts you prefer to be thinking about men’s asses.

Whether you like it or not, the way you conduct yourself will have a bearing how Johnny Manziel is perceived by the public at large. Some will like you, some won’t, some might not even know that Cleveland has a professional football team, but that’s not what you should be worried about: you should be worried about when your next paycheck is coming in so that you can pay your dealer back. Other than that, you might also want to consider maybe toning down the antics and getting back to just playing football – the “money” celebrations, the wild nights at nightclubs with washed-up singers and heavyweight boxers, the rolling up of dollar bills inside a men’s room where security cameras may or may not show us all what you’re doing via TMZ, that’s all well and good, but do you know what’s even better? Doing all that shit behind closed doors and getting away with it because you’re an elite player in the greatest wealthiest professional sports league in the United States. You have one chance to make good on that kind of an opportunity, so don’t screw it up – that is, unless you want to end up at a party at Richard Simmons’ house.

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