Goodbye 18, it's been real

First appeared on March 14th, 2011
in The Lebanon Reporter

So you’re the biggest Colts fan ever. Yet somehow the national search missed you and settled on some 12 year old freckle faced dork from Fort Wayne. So it was understandably troubling when you, like everyone on Earth including the Bushmen of the Kalahari and Inuits of Nunavut, heard there was a strong chance the Indianapolis Colts were going to release Peyton Manning. In fact the first time you heard the news you became so startled you dropped your autographed copy of his biography into a steaming bowl of Spaghettios splattering orange globs all over your 2010 AFC Pro-Bowl Jersey.

Your High School coach told you “never say never” when Floyd County had you down by 35 at halftime, but in Manning’s case you know you’ll never see anything like him again. That was five days ago and for four straight mornings now you’ve awaken to check the Colts roster online only to discover again that he really is gone. You knew this day was coming, you just hoped you’d have won the lottery and bought your own private island in the Caribbean first; maybe the one next door to Michael Jordan’s.

Here you’d read every Doc Savage book ever written as a cabana boy keeps your bottomless cup filled and it would be enough to help you forget how much professional football, and Manning more importantly, meant to you.

You know there’ll be other quarterbacks. Some with laser arms and some with rocket arms. But one with a laser-rocket arm is rare indeed, as rare as the Yeti or someone playing defense in the first quarter of an NBA game.

But now he’s gone and you don’t know what to do. Crying seems a bit extreme, especially since you were noticeably devoid of emotion when burying your child’s gerbil in the back yard last November. And yet that’s just what Jim Irsay seemed to be doing during his joint press conference with Manning-something as insignificant as planting a domesticated rat amongst a bed of Petunias.

You took note of how nonchalant Irsay was while showing the door to the man who sparked your enjoyment of football and so you decide it’s time to move on. You pack up your Colt replica helmet popcorn caddy and #18 wristbands and head off to the place everyone goes to say goodbye to old friends. And when you get to Goodwill you find a line out the door of former season ticket holders toting their Colts memorabilia off as well.

You’ve seen the grainy video of Manning throwing and heard every sportswriter with a functioning voice box weigh in on what the Colts should do and still you, along with Mick Jagger, have mixed emotions. But you’re powerless to stop it now; maybe the freckle faced dork, but not you.

You don’t know what the future holds and who could expect you to? You gave your Tarot Cards, Crystal Ball and Ouija Board to Goodwill three years ago. But as you survey the line of people waiting to dump their Colts gear it becomes clear just how much Jim Irsay has stolen from them. And then comes the epiphany.

There’s one thing Fast Jimmy can’t take away from you. So you return to your car; which is somewhat hard to find considering half of them in the parking lot have horseshoes painted on their hoods, and as you pull away you do so knowing full well that, while Irsay may have gashed your soul with that Samurai Sword he called a “business decision”, try as he may he cannot take away your memoires.

© 2012 Eric Walker Williams