The front five of the Super Bowl champ New York Giants exemplify the bond that forms between men who play the O-line. To be effective, they must work selflessly, seamlessly, as one entity. That, and eat a lot of pasta.
What Scott Tyler does, and does well, is something that is essential in every war we’re fighting. And that is: eliminate important targets, sometimes from extraordinary distances, without anybody knowing he was ever there.
What possible sense can a man make of busted fingers and endless swim meets and four confounding, athletic children and raccoons in the garage and fear of football and the years spinning, spinning, spinning by?
By allowing big-time college football to flourish in its present form, the nation’s universities are shamelessly exploiting the players and debasing themselves by perpetuating the myth of the “amateur” student-athlete.