An Open Letter to Paris Lennon

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An Open Letter to Paris Lennon

The fantasy football clique has spoken. Stop the presses. The elites are pawing themselves rabid with back slapping, high fives, with a beer in one hand, and a Hoogie in the other. Watch out for wads of squirting mustered aimed inappropriately in a wayward direction when not dripping over the beer gut.

The oracles, fantasy elite, professional wannabes, and pseudo 'yes' men have drawn their conclusions, issued their collective judgment on you Paris, and according to them, you never had it. A perpetual wannabe out of step, time, and sync with professional standards. They have consulted their tea leaves, and according to their ancient craft issued their non-redeeming judgment. The judgment is good riddance, adios, and farewell. Out with the garbage, and in with the new.

Sorry Paris, I don't think they ever liked your first name. It probably reminds them of another Paris which mostly causes them carpal tunnel problems. Enough said.

Fortunately for you Paris, another team with a perpetually winning record who has, constant wizardry in the draft, and success plucking other players off of the waiver wire know something the fantasy clique does not, along with their true saviors, what are their names?

Oops, irrelevancy breeds contempt I suppose. The old guard running things in the Lions' front office reminds one of a lame slap stick comedy, the Three Stooges, Larry being Mayhew, Moe being Lewand, and Curly being Schwartz.

Good thing for you Paris, you finally made it out of fantasy hell, emerging into the light of new beginnings and a new start where you are able to firmly have your feet planted in an organization with common sense, uncommon insight in grabbing talent no one else wants, and a legitimate run at the Super Bowl this year. To put it plainly Paris, you hit the lottery.

I guess they objected to the last three years you had in the NFL as compared to Foote. Since you already know what the difference is Paris, I will remind the fantasy football clique what those numbers told someone who uses logic over whim, and I gotta tell you Paris, your career over the last three years looks like a powerful rejoinder against galactic stupidity.

According to my calculations Paris, you made Larry look like someone building sand castles on the beach or playing Paddy cake with the fantasy crowd. Records indicated that in 2008 you registered one hell of a year accounting for 121 total tackles with eighty one solo, and forty assists. Conversely, Larry Foote your replacement accounted for sixty three total tackles with thirty four solo and twenty nine assists. In 2007 you also registered a better year than Foote. I guess there is a reason the Super Bowl champs gave Foote his walking papers. They obviously know something "tweedle-dee" being Mayhew, and "twedle-dumb" being Lewand, don't know.

In any case, Paris, I commend your years on the Lions and wish you God's Speed. You won't be missing anything save for the tripe of its fan base.

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