Hey everyone it’s me, Michael. Everybody’s favorite ex-Falcon. Coming to you from inside an Arby’s and outside of a job. Who would’ve known they had free Wi-Fi? First the Ultimate Angus and now this. Things are looking up.
But seriously though, I need a job, fast. And I’ll work for food.
No need to overreact here people, just looking for a one-year deal, no guaranteed money, just guaranteed meals. Maybe guaranteed bail. We’ll see what happens.
It’s not every day Steven Jackson rolls into town and knocks you out of your job. Marshall Faulk knows. I know. The guy picked 24th overall, 130 places ahead of me in the 2004 draft just straight up took my job for $12 million. That’s a lot of Angus right there.
Everyone says I had it coming after last season, that I’m slow, and can barely outrush the league’s elite rushing QB’s. But I’m a beast on the goal line and still had ten touchdowns last year! I set the Falcons' franchise record for most career rushing touchdowns (60) and most touchdowns in a season (17) and now I’m getting the boot for Steven Jackson. Man did I see it coming. This economy is ruthless.
I’ve put together a wish list of teams I’d like to play for with a few conditions. If something doesn’t pan out soon, I have five baby-mamas and seven kids that aren’t going to be pleased, and a foreseeably growing nostalgia for the ambiance of Arby’s, an emotional burden I may not be able to endure.
Condition #1: I have to get out of the NFC South. It’s a culinary nightmare. Outside of the jambalaya, gumbo and crawfish in New Orleans, there’s literally no food that defines any city in this division. So sick of Carolina and Tampa Bay. Nothing to offer.
Condition #2: I’d like to play and eat in the AFC. Skill was not the only reason I was LaDanian Tomlinson’s back-up in San Diego. Modern cuisine was a certain additional factor.
Condition #3: It would be nice to get paid, some money. Not a lot, just some would be good.
Condition #4: Don’t make me retire, NFL. You don’t want a retired Michael Turner on your hands.
These are my conditions, here are a few teams I would love to help me in reaching them.
Pittsburgh Steelers: Butter, dough and sour cream. Pierogies. That’s what Pittsburgh does. That’s what Michael does. I’ve played one career game at Pittsburgh, and only rushed for 42 yards on 19 attempts, cause I had ‘rogies on my mind. And in my stomach. Given the opportunity to play there again, without having anxiety from a lack of pieorogies in my life, I think I could do some special things. Jonathan Dwyer knows what’s up. One breakout year and they’re already calling him the next “Bus” after Bettis. I see you Dwyer. ‘Rogies.
Baltimore Ravens: The Ravens need a goal line presence and I need crab cakes. Plain and simple. Little Ray can’t do it all. That’s where #33 comes in. Now most folks will tell you that crab cakes have a calories:protein ratio of about 20:1. To those people I say this: The Ravens Super Bowl odds right now are 30:1. Sure the Ravens were fifth in the league last season in Red-Zone touchdown efficiency, but they’ll rely heavy on Rice as always. Maybe I can take a little wear and tear off of the little guy. Just keep those crab cakes cominng.
Tennessee Titans: The Grand Canyon. Egypt’s Pyramids. Tennessee Barbecue. Interchangeable wonders of life. Chris Johnson had his chance. The ship has sailed on this goon. He raised expectations in 2009, rushing for over 2,000 yards. He lowered them in the three seasons that followed. It’s my understanding that the pulled pork and ribs of Nashville were his to lose. Insert Michael Turner here. I know Johnson is a featured back, finishing ninth in yards rushed last year. I’m prepared for this burden, just give me the chance. Like a mother’s maternal instinct and hysterical strength gained when saving her child in a matter of life and death, I, too will rush for 2,000 yards with the promise of post-game BBQ. Don’t need it. Have to have it.
These are my three landing spots. If this doesn’t happen soon I’ll just move to Philadelphia for the cheese-steak, I don’t even need a contract with the Eagles. Their road schedule is horrendous in terms of food, with trips to Tampa Bay, Oakland, and Minnesota. Nothing to eat in Denver and I probably wouldn’t be able to survive the altitude so, time will tell if any of these suitors will smarten up by the end of June. Until then I’ll be discovering McDonald’s new trio of Quarter-Pounders. Best bang for my buck on my budget.