click to enlarge
You've seen this coworker before: He's the guy who's constantly complaining about the bosses, constantly complaining about coworkers, constantly complaining that his desk isn't good enough and his machinery isn't quite right and how the world would be so much better if only it spent 24-hours a day catering exclusively to him.
That's Terrell Owens, the kind of guy who makes you apply for a gun permit just so you can shoot yourself in the face.
There will no doubt be some in Titans Nation who will call for his hiring. For the fantasy brand of football fan, he's a stat machine. The team badly needs a name-brand receiver. He is that receiver. But do you really want to wake up this fall on Sunday mornings, anxiously awaiting the noon kickoff, when you will root for a $10-million-a-year man-child who makes your four-year-old daughter seem exceedingly mature?
To paraphrase what someone once said about the Yankees, it'll be like rooting for the house in blackjack.