Open Letter to: Michael Turner

Dear 30-Year-Old Michael Turner of the Atlanta Falcons,

Some may note the odd choice of wording in the above greeting, however I think you would agree it is appropriate.  After all, according to the Atlanta police officer who arrested you last night for a DUI, that is how you identified yourself to him.  First of all, I commend you for so proudly stating your age.  I recently turned 30 myself, and had a hard time adjusting to the fact.  You on the other hand, seem to have no problem with it, though I suppose that could have been the Patron talking.

Courtesy: CBS Atlanta

Last night I watched you and your brethren manhandle Peyton Manning and the Broncos for 3 quarters.  Then, in the 4^th, you and your teammates clung to victory like the teeth of a zipper on a pair of Vince Wilfork’s pants.  I can only imagine that the stress of watching Peyton march down the field led to your boozy 5a.m. rendezvous with the police on Interstate 85.  Or perhaps you had begun to hit the sauce earlier in the evening?  Is that what led to your 2.4 yards per carry average?  Either way, your bonehead decision to speed down I-85, as if you were Vin Diesel, was just another example of why you and many of your football comrades are morons.

While the exact details of your detainment are still sketchy, it seems you spent a couple of hours behind bars before being released on $2,179 bail.  I found the dollar amount interesting.  Perhaps the Atlanta police, with their blind homerism, set the amount in relation to the number of yards they hoped you’d gain this year.  Of course we both know that with your once rocket-like speed now more akin to a hot air balloon inflating, it would likely take years for you to reach that number.

I’m curious as to how the party got started last night.  I mean the game didn’t end until after midnight, and you were clanging your tin cup against the jail cell bars just 5 hours later.  Upon entering the locker room after the game, did you immediately start double fisting brewskies?  Or do you have one of those contraptions that attaches to your helmet with beers on each side and a straw?  I bet Gonzo and Matty-Ice were rooting you on, as they held your tree trunk legs in the air during your keg stand.

Whatever the case may be, you helped to prove the point that rich athletes can’t help but do stupid things.  It seems to be built into your DNA or something.  As this appears to be your first offense, I’m guessing a slap on the wrist from Commissioner Goodell is about all you’ll get, though if I were a betting man, I’d put the over/under on more bad decisions by you at 3.5 for the year.  Which, coincidentally, will likely be higher than your yards per carry for the season.

So good luck with your 30^th year.  I have no doubt you’ll find more reasons to get sloshed as the days and weeks drag on.  Especially when your decreasing effectiveness leads to an increase in time spent on the bench.

Sincerely,

30-Year-Old Wordslinger of The Sports Column (you see what I did there?)