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The expected return of Le’Veon Bell this week is a testament to the nature of the modern game, and the lengths to which players have to go to ensure their post-playing days financial & physical viability. Returning during a scheduled bye not only guarantees him no contact for another week, it makes sure he collects a cheque. Much like Walt Whitman was initially derided for his collection of poems, Le’Veon Bell has been chastised by fans & management for the stance he has taken.
However, rather than continue to voice opinions on social media, he has taken the opportunity to put his energies into reworking the inspirational poetry of his hero, Walt Whitman.
It surely is a better use of his time than sniping at teammates like Maurkice Pouncey, who as we all know comes from the Aaron Hernandez “DIE MOTHERFUCKER DIE!” school of settling interpersonal disagreements.
Will time look as favourably on his decisions as Whitman’s? Only time will tell. But it does make for compelling reading, doesn’t it Hank?
Today, he shows us how he’s anticipating his return – and the rationale that he’s used to justify the stance he has taken, and how he hopes it will reward he and his team going forward.
Time to Come
O, Injury! A constant lingering fear
Hangs round thee, and the future state;
Unless you’ve played a down or two, you can’t
Point out I’m late.
This brain, which now throbs betwixt
Swelling hope and CTE;
This heart, which some have questioned,
Returns, but for a fee —
The curious fans of human mould,
Who come and watch me play,
And sacrifice my wondrous form,
I wish would go away.
The coursing blood will stop its flow;
Thank God he wears a cup; THE BEN
Said, “One guy doesn’t make or break you”
Which isn’t very Zen.
My career is short; the turf will close
O’er broken limbs, torn ACL;
But where, O, Rooney, where shall be
The pay for Le’Veon Bell?
Will the check go through? I play so hard
I feel my body torn;
Then, when the yards per carry drop,
Will then the fanbase mourn?
O, powerless is the franchise tag
To force me on the field;
This would not be a problem, had
Only I just kneeled.
Song of Myself
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me does not belong to you.
I loafed at home and watched TV,
I feel no guilt at my ease observing a terrible start to a season.
— Le'Veon Bell (@LeVeonBell) September 9, 2018
My body, every atom of my blood, played upon this soil, this air,
Born here of parents conceived in Camaros from parents the same, and their parents in Gremlins,
I, now twenty-six years old in perfect health again,
Hoping to play till retirement.
it wasn't my ACL sir…but I hope your day brightens up…no1 should b that upset RT @xRetnuhHD: Fuck Le'veon Bell i'm glad u tore your ACL
— Le'Veon Bell (@LeVeonBell) November 10, 2015
I vowed I would not start the season,
People believed it a bluff, but they ignored the determination of my spirit,
You may think me good or bad, but I remind you all at every opportunity,
Payment for services rendered is required.
One’s-Self I Sing
One’s-self I sing, a simple separate person,
Who asked one thing: Compensation, no tag Franchise.
Of physiology from top to toe I sing,
Not safer rules nor safer equipment is equal to high pay, I say
my Unbroken body is worthier far,
Pay me what I’m fucking worth, I sing.
This game immense in passion, pulse, and power,
Requires I be paid my worth,
A Long Term Deal, I sing.
Powerful, powerful stuff.
You can really tell he’s been trying to channel his energies into his words and not any animus. Those words reveal a player who not only believes in himself and his talents, but who is looking to convert those talents into a monetary gain he believes he is rightfully owed by virtue of his prior efforts on behalf of the team. His laments at those efforts not being contractually recognized is what has driven him to his current state, and why his words have such deeper meaning.
In that light, tomorrow we examine his words on the current bane of his football experience, the Franchise Tag.