NOW THAT WE KNOW DUDE ISN'T CRIPPLED

An Open Letter to Ben Rothlessberger:

Hey Douchebag.
Hmm. Lets see. You play a sport where you wear a cup, ankle braces, knee pads, thigh pads, rib protecting jackets, shoulder and chest pads, a concussion proof super helmet with facebars and a chin strap. You stand behind five or six 300 pound men who protect you from the possibility of a 200 and something pound dude tackling you at a speed of 5- 10 miles per hour. Oh. You also get paid Millions upon millions of dollars to do all this. And there's probably a clause in your contract about how your bosses won't have to pay you if you do something dumb. I belive it's called the "Retard Clause." So you're kinda a brilliant dude, and when you decide to ride your motorcycle that weighs around 500 pounds and goes about 200 mph at top speed and is surrounded by other vehicles weighing around 1,000 pounds or so that also travel at about an average of 3o-50 miles per hour I completely understand why you don't wear a helmet. Cause you're obviously trying to impress someone. Are you worried about your hair? Anyway have fun setting off every metal detector in the world with all those screws in your dome.

P.S.: Its a good thing THIS didn't happen to you.