The Majesty of Richard Sherman

Bodies on TV should always scream. Physical geniuses should always scream and say insane shit to everybody on TV with their eyes huge and insane. They should fill the field with roast beef and eat it shitting and laughing with beautiful music. Richard Sherman is alive. I’m not sure who watches football expecting players to be gentlemen bean kissers who wink and handshake and do commercials for cars. People should kiss Richard Sherman’s blood any time he bleeds, seeing it spread on the faces of Kelly Ripa and Tom Brady. No apologies and no complaints. Big beautiful hair screaming into the microphone and then smiling 15 minutes later, graceful in violence and heart. Eat the scalps of the pale goober on the 50-yard line then go home and read a book and throw the book away and go to bed and get up and eat and eat. Thanks again for the beautiful reminder of what America hugs and kisses until it remembers it is being watched and preyed on by something larger than itself.

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