It Could be a Fractured Ulna, I'm Afraid You Forfeit: The Hater's Guide to the Postseason

AFC 6th Seed -- Tennessee Titans (10-6)

Gentlemen, I'm well aware that we are trying to qualify for the playoffs tonight, but I'm going to have to excuse myself for a moment. My quad is feeling a tad lugubrious this evening. I may have aggravated it ever so slightly yesterday at my salsa dancing class. Allow me to beg off for a few minutes. Don't worry though, I shall pass the time in my period of serious injury by engaging in a series of vigorous calisthenics here on the sideline. First... ten Iroquois Twists, one hi-yi-yi... two-hi-yi-yi.... I beg your pardon? You are requesting my presence in the locker room for further medical care? No need for a wheelchair my good man, though severely injured I will gamely make that journey under my own power. Steady, steady....

[sprints to locker room in 5.9 seconds]

It appears that despite the dedicated ministrations of our able medical staff, my affliction persists unabated. O, cruel fate! I fear my playing days may be through. Let's return to the field so I may observe firsthand Mister Collins' performance in my stead.

[sprints back to field in two shakes of a lamb's tail]

It appears that under the besotted stewardship of Kerry Collins victory is assured. Huzzah, good sirrah! Don't let the soup-line quality stubble and roguish sobriquet of "Cocktail Kerry" deceive you, this chap knows his way around the gridiron. I will celebrate our good fortune by spending the final four minutes of the games on the stationary bike recreating my recent journey down the bucolic Rappahannock Trail.

[pedals furiously for 30 minutes straight]