It is my responsibility to give something back to the NFL superstar who has comforted and advised me in my various times of need.
You see, I wanted rock-hard abs. Peyton set me straight. I bought some bigger shirts and I have become more comfortable in my own skin. Thanks to Peyton.
I drive a plain old white minivan. Peyton encouraged me to jazz it up. The flames did not turn out so well, but at least it stands out in a parking lot. Thanks to Peyton.
I have no social life. Peyton suggested that I learn some dance moves. I look like Elaine from Seinfeld, but I am now the talk of the party. Thanks to Peyton.
I was having trouble sticking to my diet. Peyton recommended that I hang out with some linemen. The buffets seem to close earlier than they used to, but I am now the tiny one in the group. Thanks to Peyton.
So to Peyton, I ask:
Bummed about the premature end of your season? Taking your divisional playoff loss to the Chargers a little hard? Can you at least blame it on the kicker? No? Oh wow, that's pretty rough.
Here's what you're gonna do: You're gonna go buy a Giants jersey—maybe with a #10 on it—and you're gonna cheer for that other Manning...
What...sibling rivalry? Looks like this could become a series.