I would love to be invited to tonight's intimate dinner date between Giants head football coach, Tom Coughlin, and felon and now NFL player again, Plaxico Burress. For those of you who've been under a rock the past few years, Burress took a gun with him to a New York City night club a few years ago and the gun accidentally went off and slightly injured his leg. The much larger injury was Plaxico being sent to jail for two years. The more pleasant aspect of all this was that Plax destroyed any chances my beloved Giants may have had to win any more Super Bowls after getting lucky and beating the Patriots in the big game a few years ago.
Plax is the straw that stirred the Giants drink. When he went to jail, the Giants soda can loss its fizzle and the team has been thirsty every since. Coughlin was irate at Plax when the gun thing went down. I'm sure he told his wife one night that he never wanted to see the guy again. Tom may have had an outside shot at the Pro Football Hall of Fame had he won a few more Super Bowls, but Plax burned that fantasy.
I can imagine tonight's love dining going something like this:
Coughlin: "So Plax, why the hell did you ruin my football team two years ago? Do you have any idea how much I despise what you did to my coaching legacy? Do you realize we could have won a few more Super Bowls had you not done such a stupid thing?"
Plax: "Dude, I'd say your real inadequacy is you couldn't go find another great wide receiver after I went to the clink. I'll grant you I was supremely talented and almost no one on Earth could do the things I could on the football field. But you didn't get yourself another player of my calibre. That's on you."
Coughlin (while cutting his steak): "Listen to me, you punk. You don't question my coaching competency even though Giant fans and the media always do. I led this Giant team to an amazing victory over the undefeated Patriots. I outcoached the Mount Rushmore, the Lady Madonna of coaches, Bill Belichessplayer. The fact is I don't want you on my team ever again. The only reason I'm having dinner with you right now is because the team's general manager, who hasn't found me any talented players in years, has insisted I talk. He asked me to find out if you have better character now, if you have changed your views of the world, such as global warming, having been in that tiny cell, and will not be a pain to all your teammates and coaches if you played for us again."
Plax (while shining his earning in one hand while forking his baked potato with the other): "You know what, Tom. I have no use for you and all this grief. I'm only here because it's been two years since I've been invited out for a steak dinner outside of jail. I couldn't turn down the chance to scarf up a bunch of good food on the Giants tab. I am here just to taunt you and remind you of what you once had, a supremely great player, and what you will never have again. I'm about to sign with the Eagles where there are some serious athletes of my calibre. The Giants don't have those kinds of athletes and you know it."
Plax finished eating his dinner, ordered some apple pie a la mode, and the two sat in silence. Finally, Coughlin said: "You know the worst part of this whole situation you created, Plax? It's that people like Charlie Hartley, a ferocious Redskin fan, has been laughing about what you did and how badly the Giants have been affected ever since. He got what he wanted more than anything else in the world--an unsuccessful Giants franchise. You gave it to him. How's that make you feel?"
Plax: "I don't give a rat's leg about any Charlie Hartley guy. Who is he, anyway? All I know is I'm on his side from now on, rooting against the Giants forevermore, day-time, night-time and Saturday, too."
Plax stood up, adjusted the pistol lodged inside his pants, and walked out of the restaurant. The gun went off, slightly grazing his thigh. He hailed a cab to the Eagles training camp. He met with head coach Andy Reid, where he signed his contract for $10 million a year for the next three years.
Charlie Hartley went out to the store and bought a laughing box. He brought it home and listened to it all night long.