Rachel Nichols, I'll Let You Inside My Brain If You Let Me Inside Your Hanes Her Ways

Rachel Nichols, you sly little whore. Don't you think I know what you're trying to do, sweetie? Don't you think I can read between the lines in that little article you wrote about me? I've seen you look at me from that little sideline spot of yours. You can't fool the Sex Cannon, dear.

I know you want some cum slung your way.

I don't blame you. It's not every day you encounter an arm like this one, you clandestine slut of sluts. If I had a dime for every woman that tried to get into my head, to explain why Sexy Rexy does what he does, I'd be a rich man. Of course, I'm already a rich man. So what does that tell you? Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to turn you on more. I can't seem to stop the sex from emanating out of my body and right into your fallopian tubes. Sorry about that.

Women love to try and get into the mind of the Rextasy. They love the mystery. They want to know: is this guy for real? Is he really just a fearless Love God who commands the Bears offense with maximum daring and bravado? Or is there something more to him?

Well, I can assure you my love, there's nothing more to me. I really am this shallow and depraved. What you see is what you get. And, in this case, what you get is a hot lay. Women seem to think there's something deeper going on with me. Baby, that's only true below the belt. I'm not impregnable. You, on the other hand, are highly pregnable. And I shoot to score.

But let's look deeper into your little article, Ms. Nichols. Let's see what kind of crazy baby games you like playing:


Rex Grossman is familiar with this cranial fascination. Over the past few months, no other athlete has had as many unsolicited offers to diagnose his psyche.

Or as many unsolicited offers to eat coconut frosting out of a married woman's butt. Did Sexy Rexy partake? You know he did. Ill-advised? Hardly.

Of course, Grossman is the first to admit that if he'd been watching himself this season, he'd be wondering what's going on between his ears too. "But that's something you have to work out yourself," he says. "Besides, it's scary in there."

And I'm not lying, honey. Inside my head, you're gonna find yourself strapped to a seesaw and covered in Bananas Foster. Just a warning to you, girl. Don't come into Sexy Rexy's world unless you're willing to submit completely.

There is no comparable research on any athlete's brain, but if jocks have a bravado lobe, Grossman's is certainly enlarged.

Is it ever, baby. My bravado lobe will plow right through that sundress you're wearing. It's so enlarged, bravado juice will come spurting out of your ears.

Since second grade, Grossman's believed that there is very little, if anything, that he cannot do with a football.

Or a corncob. And try from birth.

Through it all, Grossman's groomed-from-age-7 confidence kept him from folding into a jumble of nerves, although even he had his limits. Friends stopped using the word interception around him, and watching or reading anything about sports was banned in his house. Instead, Grossman spent his nights watching old episodes of 24 and movies like Talladega Nights, Mission: Impossible III and White Chicks (twice).

That version of White Chicks happens to star myself, Amber Michaels and Anita Blond. It's #1 on my personal video queue. You and I can watch it while we screw. You should watch me nail those girls. Broke their arms doing it. They loved it. I can break yours too, if you want.

He got out the spiral notebook he carries around Halas Hall and started to make a list of instructions to himself. The most prominent? "Read and React. Just play."

You should see the other motivational slogans in my book:

-No one fucks like the Rex.
-Nobody.
-I fucking mean it. Rex is the best.
-Watching Rextasy sex a girl is like watching God create the Earth. Only hotter.

He turned to Johnson, his road roommate, and compared his future to a craps game. "Well, my man, I got the chips stacked high," he said. "I'm going to have to go out and have a good shoot."

On your face, if you'd like. Who's the big winner when you roll the dice with the Sex Cannon? Your vagina, that's who.

He says everything he's gone through has made him psychologically stronger for what lies ahead, even the seemingly tight margin for error he'll face in the playoffs, where a slow start could lead to a quick hook in favor of backup Brian Griese.

That's where you underestimate me, sweetie. Sexy Rexy lives for tight margins. In fact, the tighter the margin, the more likely the Sex Cannon is to blast through it with a steaming load of freshly shot passes. I'll leave that margin busted wide open so that no one wants to even touch it ever again. Nobody does it better.

I know you want it, Sweetie. But fear not. Sexy Rexy won't make you wait too long for some arm candy. Maybe a week or so. Really get you wild after you see me cocking my arm back all Sunday afternoon. Who can resist some Sexy Rexy armcocking? No one can. Then maybe, just maybe, I'll give you a taste.

Don't play shy and curious with me, sweetie. If you want a piping hot Throwgasm, all you have to do is ask.