RICKY'S IN LOVE 


Dear Football,

I feel kinda funny writing you this letter. I mean, you're really not even a person. But I have some things I need to get off my chest. The way I walked out on you and my Dolphin brothers last year was messed up. I want you to know that it wasn't you, it was ME. I was selfish, stupid and irresponsible, and I want you to know how sorry I am. The weed made me do mean and hurtful things. All the shit I talked about you was bogus and I know it hurt. Baby, I love everything about you. All those fat bastards slamming their 'roided-up bodies into me, all the reporters getting up in my face, the brutal team meetings, everything baby. I hope you can find it in your heart to take me back so I can show you how much I still care about you. I'll never hurt you like that again.

Love,
Ricky Williams

Ricky,

I wish I could believe you. I truly do. Nobody has ever done so much to amaze me and make me so proud and happy to be with them, and then cut my heart out. The weed HAD a hold on you? From what I hear, you've still got a house on Cypress Hill. I can't help but think that your motives aren't pure, that you just want me to take you back because you're in financial trouble or something. I saw how you wasted no time in taking up with that holistic healing ho. What's up with that? How can you expect me to let you back into my life? What have you changed about yourself? You used me, Ricky. I thought you were like Neo, baby – the ONE! You used me to get your glory and your dead presidents, and then you left me just like Jim Brown did.

Mournfully,
Football

Baby,

I dig where you're coming from. I went off on the holistic tip because I thought I needed something new. You know how short my attention span is. OK, I'll be honest: I still hit the bizong 24/7. But I know I can stop whenever I want to … and I don't want to yet. Shit, that cracker from System of a Down has a prescription for it! Pain in his leg? I got some severe social anxiety disorders, nigga! Oh, sorry baby. Where was I? Oh yeah, I was trying to get my head straight, but it meant nothing to me. You left a void in me that holistic healing couldn't even begin to fill. I've changed in so many ways, baby, and you need to be around me to experience it for yourself. Financial trouble? Naw, the Rickster knows how to invest.

Peace,
Da Rickster

PS: I was blunted when I wrote this; forgive me if it went astray.

PPS: That was a takeoff on a Prince lyric.

Ricky,

Tell Tommy Chong or whoever is supplying your weed to dial it down a bit. You're a mess. I also can't help but feel like you left the game to avoid suspension for the drug tests. Come to think of it, if you wait until July to ask to be reinstated, it'll be just like you served your suspension without officially being suspended! That's bullshit! You've got a dependency problem with the herb, Ricky. You need to get some help for that. Anyone who could walk away from me like you did, swearing you were done with me forever, is either crazy or on drugs. You managed to tarnish your legend more than Kobe did, and you didn't even rape a white girl. You're a flake. If you don't get some help, I can't let you back in.

Sincerely,
Football

Damn, baby,

Why you gotta be like that? So I hit the trees like Sonny Bono? I did it when I was playing ball and I ran my ass off! The suspension element was there, but I had to get away from you because I was going crazy. All that stuff was eating me up inside, especially dealing with reporters. Those damn team meetings were a waste of my time, too. All I do is run the ball. Just block for me, and I'll do everything else. That's all I need to know.

Wait, I've had some time to cool off. Ice in the bong works every time. OK, I went off pretty strong there. I'm more at peace with myself now than I was way back then, and I can put up with whatever it takes so you'll trust me again. Just trust me enough to give me a chance, baby. I need to be back with you so bad.

Love you,
Rick

Ricky,

Guess who I just talked to? My girlfriend, Media. She told me that you just got hit up for more than $4,000 a month for child support for your kid, Blaze. (Blaze?) That's on top of the $8 million you still owe the Dolphins! All you want to do is use me again, Ricky. You thought you could live without Football, and went off the deep end. Lucky for you that I'm a sucker, Ricky. Integrity means nothing to me; I have no problem being your Sugar Mama as long as you contribute to my fortune. Truth be told, we're a perfect match for each other. As long as players like you keep flaunting the fact you can buck the system, I can't worry about principles and ethics.

I'm yours,
Football

Baby,

Oh, you won't regret this. I just need you to keep those Dolphins off my back so I can start a 420 club with Randy Moss in Oakland. You and me are great together, aren't we? There's nothing else out there for me, especially nothing that will let me get away with what you do. I don't know what you wanna do about piss tests, but I'm not ready to quit right now.

I'm hungry,
Ricky

Ricky,

If I can let a guy like Terrell Owens get out of a deal with Baltimore one year and Philadelphia the next, I can definitely turn my back on your herbal essence. You'll get whatever you want, because I need you almost as badly as you need me. I can't wait for the make-up sex with you. I'm powerless to resist you.

Submissively yours,
Pro Football

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