Calling it right here:
February, 2016. Levi's Stadium, Santa Clara, California.
Super Bowl 50.
4th Quarter, 0:12 remaining.
Seahawks 24, Browns 20.
4th and 12 Browns at the Seahawks' 25.
Joshy-Josh (as his teammates have begun calling him) looks at the defense. "Crud," he thinks to himself, "If only I was good at football." Without a plan he hikes the ball yet it bounces out of his hand. DISASTER! Surely the Browns are down now!
NOPE!!! TP catches the ball, hops a defender, twists and turns and runs for 13 yards looking like a Brazilian soccer player playing against a couple of Iowa farm boys. He runs out of bounds with :07 on the clock.
1st and Goal Browns.
Joshy-Josh looks at the defense. Sees a Safety cheating in. "Maybe it's time to TP these mofos like we been doing this whole time. Heck yes I went there, " he thinks. His heart beats out of his chest, yet he knows no fear, Terrelle Pryor is here.
This music begins to play. Time slows. Joshy-Josh steps back gracefully, ballerinas envious of his footwork. The ball goes in the air floating as if it were a leaf lazily dropping from a tree. TP dives (it was a shitty throw, Joshy-Josh being the QB and all). All of Cleveland (and therefore the world) holds its breath.
TD Browns. TD Pryor. TD the hearts of those living in the Frigid North.
Super Bowl Championship, Cleveland Browns. 30,245 Terrelles are born at the Cleveland Clinic over the next 5 years.
And git yo Who Dey selves outmaface.