Like watching a swan land ever so gently on a still pond, barely disrupting the water beneath its wings, hardly a ripple, gliding ever so effortlessly atop the surface like an Olympic ice skater. That’s what I see when I watch this jersey exchange.
Truly a big fella’s worst nightmare. I understand why football pads are so hard to get out of: you’re basically a fucking human crash test dummy. You better be snug and secure in there if you’re gonna be battling in the trenches for 60 minutes. And linemen have to keep a tighter jersey so they can’t be held and grabbed easily by the guy across from them. Knights after jousts got out of their armor quicker than your average lineman can get his jersey off. Poor Vita’s still stuck like Winnie the Pooh trying to get that last drop of honey, or your stepsister trying to reach that last sock in the dryer.