Monday, November 20, 2006

I'm Okay.

Hey guys.

Um, I'm not really sure what to say.

Thanks to everybody who's been sending me cards and calling me. These are tough times for myself and my family and we appreciate any good will we receive. I thank everybody who has put us in their thoughts and prayers today. I love you all. I really mean that.

Yesterday was devastating, but I know, that with your strength, and your courage, I will learn to carry on. I know that I will learn to depend on you, as you guys have depended on me for so many years. (3,839 completions. 251 career TDs.)

Last night, as I lay in my attic, distraught, alone, depressed, and bewildered, I found a sheet of paper. It was of a poem I wrote the day I signed with the Dallas Cowboys. I couldn't believe how much it spoke to me, and how well written it was. Sometimes I forget how good I am at other stuff, because I'm so good at football. (4,555 passing yards -- single season. That's about 3 miles.)

Obviously, I don't feel like blogging today, but I felt I had to say something. So as a token of my esteem and deep undying gratitude to you, my readers, I present to you my poem:

The Signal: By Drew Bledsoe:

Shock.
I got a new life...
You would hardly recognize me,
Im so glad.
How can a person like me care for you?
Why do I bother?
When you're not the one for me?
Is enough enough?

I saw the signal, and it opened up my eyes I saw the signal.
Life is demanding without understanding.
I saw the signal and it opened up my eyes I saw the signal
No ones gonna drag you up
To get into the light where you belong
But where do I belong?

Under the pale moon,
For so many years Ive wondered
Who you are.
How can a person like you bring me joy?
Under the pale moon
Where I see a lot of stars...
Is enough enough?

I saw the signal and it opened up my eyes I saw the signal
Life is demanding without understanding.
I saw the signal and it opened up my eyes I saw the signal.
No ones gonna drag you up
To get into the light where you belong
But where do I belong?


Thank you.

11 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

that was beautiful

4:28 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

That brought a tear to my eye. :(

4:46 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

hmmmm, thats sounds very similiar to an ace of base song I once heard...

4:57 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hang in there, Drew. When you stand in your kitchen -- alone, feet cemented to the floor, and eating burgers -- think of your adoring fans. We'll always be here for you and your eternal mediocrity!

4:58 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Drew we need a QB over here in California, fly on out here and we'll talk contract.

The burgers are on me.

By the way, that poem was the one shining light in my otherwise dreary days.

5:11 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Gee, Drew - you sure sound down. I read that now that Greg Ellis is out, you are the designated coin flip caller. And so far, you have won 100% of the calls - let's see Homo do that! So cheer up!

6:42 PM  
Blogger Brodie41 said...

That poem made no sense.

8:18 PM  
Blogger Kristi said...

Hey there, chin up. I hear there is a spot in Phily open for the rest of the year. You've gotta be better than Garcia, aren't you? What better Christmas present than to whip Homo in front of your old hometown crowd? I could see it now, you running to the star in a phily uniform and throwing your arms up in the air in triumpant victory over the Homoboys.

9:44 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

That poem reminds me of this one time my grand daughter showed me a drawing when she was little; it was of her and the family. It looked like the crayons had an epileptic seizure all over the paper and shit themselves to boot, but I told her it was excellent and paid a museum 50,000 dollars to display it. Except this time, instead of me straight up lying, I'm going to be brutally honest: that sucked. balls. If I paid for a crew of hookers to felate the team if we were to win the Superbowl (that's a standing offer boys, so Drew, you might want to consider motivating the starters to win us the big one. Word on the street is that your wife has been a bit frigid lately, so you might finally get some action. Maybe it's because she doesn't like backups.), and then combined all the testicle suckage that they did, it would be about half of what that poem just displayed. Stick to playing (or at least watching while getting paid a lot of money by me)football.
Sounded like some serious faggy emo shit to me.
Whatever. I've got money to count

9:55 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Drew!

I couldn't help but return here to check out your latest blog, nice poem (who's ace of base?). Sorry that I went into a tirade because you wouldn't acknowledge me losing my starting job when I was in a time of need, but I'm over it. For the record, I never ate those hot dogs I threatened to make, I'll always be a burger man. It's Tuesday, I know your off today we have to get together for some burgers tonight. TUESDAY NIGHT BURGER NIGHT!!! WOOOO!

(I'll bring my special seasoning)

Your Pal,

Mark

9:49 AM  
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2:56 AM  

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