Kerry Collins and Kurt Warner have both risen from the grave.
Warner, undoubtedly with the power of Christ, resurfaced in New Jerusalem the desert. With an evangelical setting — old white republicans — Warner has thrived, leading a pass-happy, high-scoring Cardinals offense. But I’m not buying it. In my mind, Kurt’s revival is akin to getting fake tits.
Collins usurped the starting QB job from Vince Young, sobering up a Titans offense that had been doused in Tequila and left to eat the worm. Minus the Chicago game, Kerry hasn’t done anything too exotic, acting as the designated driver for a defense that gets plastered off the opposition’s blood. Still, Kerry’s restored order, saving the offense from complete cerosis.
Given the background of the two situations, it’s obvious which comeback story was destined for the media gang bang.
Warner for MVP! The Sunset ‘Slinger! The greatest show on scorched earth! Jesus walks! It’s warm here and the residents have all their teeth! FAKE TITS!
With that said, Kerry was destined to be left out in the cold, drinking muddy coffee and ripping butts outside an AA meeting in Nashville.
So I’ve decided to align myself in Kerry’s corner, producing a very short documentary on his resurgence. The film also touches on his free-wheeling past, which serves as a warning to Titans fans. Just remember, Kerry is one sip away from becoming the Honky-Tonk-Hustler.
And, oh yeah, Sean Salisbury volunteered to narrate.
