Dear Chadwick,
Is it ok if I call you Chadwick? You apparently have no shame when it comes to terrible names so I'm just trying to class things up a bit.
First of all let me tell you why I am writing you this letter. You're probably asking yourself, "Chadwick, how are you possibly relevant in anyone's life at this point?" The answer is, you aren't. But you almost were. Let me explain.
I run the best damn fantasy football team on this side of the Mississippi. Howard's Heroes. No doubt you've probably heard the name. Anyway, my advisors and I were seriously flirting with the notion of picking you up. It goes without saying that after the dismal season you had last year, you were going to be what we in the biz call a "sleeper". I could've probably drafted you 4 rounds after my defense and been alright. But isn't it the thought that counts?
Now let me tell you how you ruined your chances of playing for Howard's Heroes. I'll be honest with you, you would probably be riding the pine for us (did I tell you we are just stacked with talent?). But let's face it, you've never really actually gotten PT for a winning team...
Your antics on HBO's documentary series "Hard Knocks" were nothing short of amusing. You had the whole "kiss the baby" and "child please" catch-phrases when the show followed you in Cincinatti. In Miami you were slightly more reserved with the pick-up lines. Instead you dropped a few f-bombs at a press conference (which Joe Philbin really enjoyed) and made it all the way to episode 2 without getting arrested. Ahhh, you thought I'd forgotten...
Who head-butts a woman? Not only a woman, but YOUR WIFE?! Not trying to be rude here but you did pick her. Granted, you met her on Twitter, but call me a romantic. I had faith it could work out. You're Chad Johnson! But you really "kissed the baby" on what could've been a wonderful Twitter romance story when you "hit your wife in the face".
You looked good at training camp. When I heard you changed that terrible last name back to Johnson I got excited. I was guessing you to be the #1 reciever in Miami. I mean it would've been your twelth season in the L. Who would've played over deep-threat extraordinare, Chad Johnson? Naanee? Bess? Nah man. You know you had that spot wrapped up. Unfortunately, your wife found out you were wrapping up in more inappropriate ways. Receipts for condoms? I thought your rookie camp had long since passed...
I usually try to stay out of the personal lives of NFL players. I think like 6 of you guys get arrested everyday. The thing that made this arrest different, besides the fact that you struck a woman, is that your team actually decided to do something about it. Whaaaaaaat? Morals in the NFL?! Who would've thunk it. Yet here you are. Without a team. Without a VH1 series (Ev and Ocho? Really?). Without a crazy wife you met on Twitter. Without a Spanish last name. And without the Howard's Heroes. I'm sure the last part will be the hardest to sleep on.
Sincerely Disappointed,
Dexter Howard
