Let me get this straight. Absolutely nothing, EVER could make me miss the birth of our daughter, or any child for that matter.
The ONLY exception is a gritty match-up versus those no-good, rotten Bengals. I hate them! I hate them so much!
You honestly can't be mad. One of the first things I told you when I first met you was that if we ever had a child together, and a Bengals game happened to be on that same day, I would have to opt for the game.
HATE those fucking Bengals! God damn it! Fuck!
You know I have both problems sleeping and problems staying awake. And it's all because of those Devil-worshipping, homosexual Bengals! They pop up in my dreams, my nightmares, and my daydreams. They also are the cause of my erectile dysfunction. So I'm surprised we actually had a baby. Seeing the Bengals get creamed will only help my erectile dysfunction, so we can have more babies! So missing our daughter's birth for the game of the century will actually lead to more children.
If I could strangle every single one of the Bengals, all the coaching staff, every single one of their fans, and their waterboy, I would! They make me sick!
If there would've been a tv in the delivery room, playing the game at a loud enough volume to drown out your screaming and the shouts of "Push! Push! Push!" "I'm trying! Hoo! Hoo!" then I might've reconsidered. I would've brought my 6-pack of beer and the Tostitos and plopped down in the delivery room. My eyes would be glued to the TV, but at least I'd be there for delivery.
Babies can be replaced. But nothing can take the place of a ball game ‘gainst our rivals. Did you really need me at the birth? No. Our team needed me there, in our living room, air conditioning blasting. You don't get to the playoffs with skill, smart coaching, hard work, dedication, perseverance, and a little bit of luck. You get there with a strong fan base.
And yes, this wasn't a playoffs game. It was a pre-season game. But you and I both know ya gotsta treat every game like a playoff game.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime game. I could feel it in my blood. I could smell victory! Sweet, precious, pure victory! These moments come around only once or twice in our lives! Sure, we beat the Bengals in '81. But we had Johnson and Steeley then. We coulda beat anyone then (except the Oilers)!