My career only took off because of one football game. I thought it was funny. ‘Playboy’ called and offered me a cover just like that. I turned them down initially, because I was nervous about it and my boyfriend at the time didn’t want me to do it, but they kept coming back , so I eventually said yes.
When I did TV shows and movies, the studios did demographic research. They were shocked to find that my audience isn’t just men who are too drunk to turn off the TV after football. It’s women, too. I don’t know exactly why, other than that I’ve tried to remain true to myself for all these years. I have gone through a lot, and I’ve been open about it. Maybe they look at me and can see how you can grow up, have children, continue to be sexy, get married and divorced and, though you grew up poor, live the American dream. I’m very blessed. I’m happy for it all.
There really has been only one thing in my life that has made me feel complete, and that is the game of football. The ability to throw a football was my God-given talent. That was my blessing and my passion; that was my calling in live, and everything that I’ve accomplished has derived from that.
Fans are fans. I hated and loved them, hated and loved them, hated and loved them.
I always wanted everyone to like me. I wanted the city of Pittsburgh to be proud of me. But my first few seasons, I could to count the number of people on my bandwagon on one finger.
Ride it when you retire.
What’s the worst thing that can happen to a quarterback? He loses his confidence.
Imagine yourself sitting on top of a great thoroughbred horse. You sit up there and you just feel that power. That’s what it was like playing quarterback on that team [the Pittsburgh Steelers]. It was a great ride.
When Brian told me he grew up in New Mexico, I told him I thought it is cool that people from other countries play football. He corrected me on my geography and agreed to sit down with me anyway.
The best thing you can say about any coach is his players play hard for him.
No one will ever win four [Super Bowls] in six years again. It won’t happen. You can chisel that sucker in stone.
I may be dumb, but I’m not stupid.
Football used to be my god but no longer is. I still love it, I’m still aggressive, I still want to be very successful at it, I want to win a lot of football games. And my job is to be the best football player in the world, because it affords me a life; it pays, it’s my job, and so it hasn’t dulled my senses for the game or the love or the great excitement I get from the game. It’s just that I’m very much at peace with myself because of my faith.
High national emotions are permissible when a soccer team is playing precisely because they are impermissible at most other times. There aren’t, simply, many other places where you can sing your national anthem until you lose your voice without causing a riot. In the context of soccer, flag-waving nationalism – even chauvinistic, anti-foreigner, flag-waving nationalism – is acceptable in Britain.
My parents didn’t raise me to be religious. The closest we come to worship is the Trinity of Visa, Mastercard, and American Express. I think the Merryweather cheerleaders confuse me because I missed out on Sunday School. It has to be a miracle. There is no other explanation. How else could they sleep with the football team on Saturday night and be reincarnated as virginal goddesses on Monday?
We had a word with him about diving and since then the lad’s come on leaps and bounds.
You know, it’s a different deal – throwing a football as opposed to throwing a baseball.
The game is not over until it is.
The Dell will continue to be a hard place to go and take points.
Check out the helmet hair on Randy Moss, babe! He looks like some freakish anti-Mr. T after a long evening sleeping through ‘Aida.’
Warner had more hands in his face than an OB-GYN delivering Vishnu’s triplets!
When the hell is Warren Moon going to retire? I mean, this guy is older than the cuneiform in Nebuchadnezzar’s tomb.
That punt was higher than Marion Berry on a fact-finding tour of Cartagena.
The quarterback’s spending so much time behind the center that he may jeopardize his right to lead a Boy Scout troop.
That field goal attempt was so far to the left it nearly decapitated Lyndon LaRouche.
Their offense is shakier than Katherine Hepburn after an all-night espresso bender at Starbucks.
Nervous? He’s tighter than Pat Buchanan’s sphincter muscle at a 4th of July soiree on Fire Island.
Somebody call Janet Reno – I think I just saw Donato dragging Doug Flutie into a locker room closet!
Ouch! And Marino goes down quicker than his Boonesfarm-infused sister in the back of my ’68 Cutlass on our first date after watching ‘Love Story’ at the drive-in.
Hey, Cunningham – Andy Warhol called. You’re at 14:55 and we’re tickin’ big-time here, Chachi.
With Browns’ ticket prices what they are, you just know that all those dads who brought the entire family to sit in the ‘dog pound’ are secretly calculating how much blood they’re going to have to sell next week to put groceries on the table.
Of *course* he needs to renegotiate his salary – the guy buys more snow than Seward did when he bought Alaska from the Russians.
Is it just me, or are the 49ers doing an awful lot of ass-patting today?
The Cowboy’s defense has more holes in it than Ronny Milsapp and Jose Feliciano after a game of lawn darts.
That kid’s got an arm like Uncle Fester at an exhibition of Pre-Colombian… um, Christ, I lost it. I was going for something thick. So what’s with the beard, Grizzly Fouts?