I’d like to take up the challenge for 2006.
Anyone with a literal clue as to how excitement is induced in the human body understands when a sweaty sex cannon drops back 3 sexy steps, then two more, then takes a moment to let a drop of liquid male sex hormones fall from the bridge of a nose in state of flared nostrils, focused, primed for the unleashing of a sex cannon...indeed...this might be the third 60 yard bomb consequitively released...from the hips, the chiseled shoulder, full body thrust and its gone, off the screen, the cameraman is lost, no idea where into the heavens the ball has gone.
The clouds part and the ball descends reflecting a beam of light as it falls back to the silly games of mere mortals.
Where will it fall? It doesn’t matter, everyone in the stands has prematurely ejaculated at the thought, in the suspense, the ref is now just white, his black stripes covered in gallons of crowd goo.
Like I understand if you weren’t there, how you might feel about 2018 but for those of us that were the term “excitement” is forever muted and unattainable. I’m sure this year will be fun, but sex canon will always be missed.
