Dear Roger Goodell,
Where did we go wrong? Was it the gambling controversy? The “uncensored” interview I gave Flavor Flav? Or the three hundred pounds of weed they found in my trunk when I was napping in the parking lot of Jack in the Box?
Rest assured, Commissioner, I’ve changed. I found Jesus.
I’m not talking about this Mike Vick “everyone look at me, I found Jesus” B.S. I’m telling you: I found Jesus, he’s 8 inches tall, and he’s whipping my black ass into shape. For real.
Like Tank and Chris Henry, I served my suspension, and I think it’s time you let me back in the league. JC says that each of us has a light within that we need to shine unto others. My “light” just so happens to be scoring touchdowns and waking up Monday morning with a bed full of strippers. And I want to shine this light on the world.
Set me free, Roger Goodell, set me free.
P.S. Adam Jones wants me to tell you that he’s very, very sorry.