Life is a Game of Lots of Inches


Now, I can’t do it for ya. I’m too old. I look around. I see these young faces, and I think, I mean, I made every wrong choice a middle-aged man can make. I, uh, I pissed away all my money, believe it or not. I chased off anyone who’s ever loved me. And lately, I can’t even stand the face I see in a mirror. You know, when you get old in life, things get taken from you. I mean that’s, that’s, that’s part of life. But, you only learn that when you start losin’ stuff. You find out life’s this game of inches, so is football. Because in either game – life or football – the margin for error is so small. I mean, one half a step too late or too early and you don’t quite make it. One half second too slow, too fast, and you don’t quite catch it. The inches we need are everywhere around us. They’re in every break of the game, every minute, every second.

On this team, we fight for that inch. On this team, we tear ourselves and everyone else around us to pieces for that inch. We claw with our fingernails for that inch. Because we know when we add up all those inches, that’s gonna make the fuckin’ difference between winnin’ and losin’! Between livin’ and dyin’! I’ll tell ya this – in any fight, it’s the guy who’s willin’ to die who’s gonna win that inch. And I know if I’m gonna have any life anymore, it’s because I’m still willin’ to fight and die for that inch. Because that’s what livin’ is! The six inches in front of your face!!

Now, I can’t make you do it. You gotta look at the guy next to you. Look into his eyes! Now I think you’re gonna see a guy who will go that inch with ya. You’re gonna see a guy who will sacrifice himself for this team because he knows, when it comes down to it, you’re gonna do the same for him! That’s a team, gentleman! And, either we heal, now, as a team, or we will die as individuals. That’s football, guys. That’s all it is. Now, what are you gonna do?

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