Maybe you know a quarterback being held hostage. Maybe you have a loved one who is a quarterback being being held hostage. Worst of all, you may be a quarterback being held hostage: in a basement by a scary, abusive man with Southwest buddy passes falling from his back pocket, or in a Chuck E. Cheese being held against your will. Maybe you are in the ball pit. Maybe you are bound and lying inside the skee-ball machine, the sound of the balls rolling endlessly over the wood above your head.
Maybe you are in the claw machine box game with the stuffed animals, Danny O'Brien. You poor hypothetical bastard. We hope it's not the claw machine box game with the stuffed animals. That would be the worst, especially when you started talking to the animals. Tiger. We're getting out of here. We're going to go to Vanderbilt and be smart together. You can get in naw don't say that you're plenty smart enough we'll get you a math tutor. It'll be great, Tiger. Don't cry. I hate it when you cry.
If you have a quarterback-imprisonment problem, reach out. Ask for help. No one is demonizing you. We want to help you. We know the thrill of telling someone they cannot live in Nashville. It's one of the best things you can do, really, and completely in their own interests even if you are deluding yourself into thinking it is not.
But if you love something, you need to set it free, even if Mike Locksley wants another dollar for the Danny O'Brien machine. He might say he'll hit you if you don't give him another dollar, but he's kidding. We think. Give him a dollar. It's just a dollar! GIve it to him now. He looks serious. He's punching us as we type. Give him a goddamn dollar right now.