Bros Before Pros: The NFL All-Bro Quarterback Team
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I've noticed a disturbing trend on sports networks lately. I've seen something disconcerting, creeping onto the sidelines of football games. It's the Bros. With a capital "B." They're everywhere.
They've seeped into the sporting world like a chemical leak seeping into a town water supply. I'm worried that this could go viral. And I'm not talking about the new definition of viral. (*Author's note: Viral: a way for talentless, inane fools to become famous for half of fifteen minutes by spreading their lackluster faces all over Youtube. See also: Rebecca Black.)
I'm talking about legitimate 28 Days Later hordes of bloodthirsty, sprinting, pastie monsters viral.
The Bro, you see, isn't just any guy. He's that guy. The one who wears big, white-framed sunglasses at night-time. Rocks a polo under a polo and uses more gel than Dr. Scholl's inserts. A guy so devoted to high-fiving he'd impale his hand on Captain Hook's namesake just to show his enthusiasm. We all know the guy. But where the Bro has shockingly made his appearance, where he has deftly matriculated like a secret agent working for MI-6, is onto the football field.
Nowhere is this trend more apparent that at the Quarterback position. So, without further ado, here's the 2012 All-Bro Quarterback team:
Edgar Allan Broe
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Bro Codename: Edgar Allan Broe
Who he is at the All-Bro QB Keggar: Edgar Allan Broe's the surly Bro. His hair coiffed up, face permanently in a sneering look of derision, Cutler is moodier than a Drake album. If you're looking for Broe, he'll be the one who jams his faux-hemp beanie on, even though it's 60 degrees outside, and heads to the fringe of the party to broodingly smoke an expensive cigarette.
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Bro Codename: Bro-Hairmian Rhapsody
Who he is at the All-Bro QB Keggar: Bro-Harimian Rhapsody is the Bro at the party whose wallet is almost as fat as his face. Inevitably rocking an argyle sweater, boat shoes, and potentially an arm band (*Author's note: why, you ask? A true Bro asks, "why not."), Rhapsody jovially makes sure everyone can see his 3 credit cards and wad of 20s each time he "accidentally" gets out his wallet. Watch out, though, because it's not just his pride that's easily injured. He can just as easily blow out a shoulder as blow-dry his hair. If you're looking for him at the keggar, he'll be at the beer pong table, going deep.
Bro Codename: Stubble Trouble
Who he is at the All-Bro QB Keggar: He's the bro who's in the Hot tub. . .with a group of chicks. This Bro, who discards razors almost as fast as he discards babes, just can't help himself around a hot tub. His ass is usually sore from sitting on the cold, steel bench for so long that a good soak, a cold brew, and two ladies who're "18, right?" are just what the doctor ordered. He's the Bro whose 5 o'clock shadow is at 6:30 PM at all times and whose rugged, thrown together look was accomplished in a mere 48 minutes of man-scaping.
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Bro Codename: (Excuse my lack of creativity on this one) Tony Bromo
Who he is at the All-Bro QB Keggar: Aww, shucks. He's just hanging out with his Bros. Just being a chill, average dude. Bromo is the Bro who is grinning ear to ear with dimples that can only be described as devastating. What's he so happy about? You'd be smiling, too, if you were high as shit on Crest Whitening strips. Romo is the guy who keeps demanding "Friends in Low Places" be played at maximum volume and when it does he knows half the words but sings the other 50% with just enough confidence that all the ladies still love it.
If you're looking for Bromo, he'll be the one with his red Solo cup in the air shouting out, "Led Zeppelin!!!!" even though he can only name Stairway to Heaven. He and his Bro, Matt Leinart, practice their un-shaving together and both are recent graduates from the George Clooney School of Stubblety where they studied under headmaster Brett Favre.
Thumbs up, Bro.
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Next time you're watching a football game and the QB pulls off his helmet to reveal that his hair belongs on one of the Beatles and you know that his wallet belongs to one of the Heatles, remember the call of the young, business Brofessional: Bros Before Pros!