Al Michaels is just too damn old. Tony Romo's shtick is played out. The Collinsworth slide is gone. Even the Manningcast seems to have run its course and devolved into a podcast more than actually talking about the game.
If there's one man who can save NFL broadcasting, it's Jason Kelce. Now we don't know when that time will come, and hopefully it's not in the immediate future. But the moment Jason Kelce decides to hang 'em up for good, he needs to be in the booth. Because that right there is how you bring the energy to breakdown a play.
For Jason Kelce to find and lock into that emotion while on set is the shit that Emmy's are made out of. Like Glenn Howerton being able to lock into Dennis Reynolds rage mode at any given moment when filming Always Sunny. No warm up, no build up, no nothing. The man can just tap into the emotion at any given moment. He's a star. A Super Bowl Champion, a future Hall of Famer, a finalist for Sexiest Man Alive, and a future Emmy winner. I know there might be some Kelce fatigue setting in for everybody, but Jason Kelce just continues to climb up the power rankings of greatest humans of all time.
And he doesn't do it for himself. He's not interested in the fame, glory, or attention. He's doing it for all the other plus-sized, bearded men out there who need a hero to look up to.
The ladies want him, the men want to be him. And some men, like Ryan Fitzpatrick, need to use up every ounce of self-control they have in their body to not touch this man's grundle.
That grundle is reserved for Kylie, and Kylie only.
Sidenote: Have to imagine that Damone Clark has been having nightmares about Kelce maniacally laughing in his face all week. He's going to be looking at December 10th on the calendar like a little kid checking under his bed at night for the boogieman.