Writing for The Players Tribune, Wentz somehow managed to turn freezing North Dakotian winters into words that are making loins burn. Caution— Carson might ignite your Dawkins boner:
You don’t get through winters with an average temperature of 12.8° without being a certain kind of tough — the cracked-skin-dried-blood kind of tough.
That toughness comes in handy in a place like North Dakota. You see, up there, jamming your numb fingers against someone’s ice-cold helmet happens every practice. Getting decked on the cement-like dirt is just how a play ends.
And here’s the thing: I love it.
Because in North Dakota, we don’t care for flash or dazzle. That’s not our game. We don’t do things the fanciest way. We do them the right way.
When I started out in the Bismarck youth football league, I was a running back. Now, I wasn’t a shifty, finesse running back. I was an up-the-gut, everyone-knows-where-the-ball-is-going, punch-you-in-the-mouth running back. Since I was a kid, I’ve had the mentality that if you’re going to tackle me … well, I’m going to make sure it hurts. I was pretty skinny — lanky even — but you can get away with that when you play hard and aren’t afraid of contact. And contact was always my favorite part of the game — still is. It was kind of funny, honestly. I was this crazy, string-bean kid trying to truck kids into the end zone. And a lot of the time, I did.
Live look at me:
FOOTBALL. FOOTBALL! FOOTBALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I don’t know who advised him to write like he’s composing the voiceover script for a GMC truck commercial, but that guy should get a raise. Wentz basically just articulated Philly sports fandom in however many words the post is. This, this will endear him to Philly. It’s brilliant. I’m too jaded to think it was completely spontaneous and that someone didn’t advise him to write the most hardcore, I want to fucking kill my opponent piece he could possibly come up with to win over Philly fans. But I don’t care. I’m eating it all up like the glass I imagine Wentz was chewing as a chaser for the tough roadkill he devoured while putting the final touches on the story after beating a small boy in checkers and then stealing his goddamn game board because the little bastard needed to learn disappointment. I AM ALL ABOARD THE WENTZ TRAIN. CHOO CHOO MOTHERFUCKER.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to parse these quotes and rank which will sell best on t-shirts. Early clubhouse leader is: Cracked Skin. Dried blood. Football.