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: