Admit it. You’ve been waiting for this. You’ve been waiting for Jake Locker’s name to appear in a headline on these pages this summer. You love Jake Locker. Jake Locker turns you on. This sh*t is like porn to you. Or at least literary erotica.
I’ve got a question: Is Jake Locker the greatest quarterback who ever lived? I’ve also got an answer: Yes, he is. End of paragraph.
I’m a little different than most guys. I enjoy love. I like weddings. I’ve often thought about how my own wedding would play out. Yeah, you might not give a sh*t, but you know what, I do. If that’s not cool with you, then you can go fornicate yourself. I f**king love weddings, and one of the things I’ve semi-choreographed is the music that will play at my ceremony of wedded bliss. Undoubtedly, one of those songs would have to be Your Song, by Elton John. It’s an emotionally-moving song. It’s one of my all-time favorite songs. And I love it. It’s money in the bank.
I love that song so much, that I think at the end of this upcoming season, we should put together a slo-mo video montage of Jake Locker’s highlights and make Your Song the background music. How great would that be? You’d be crying for reasons beyond your control. Misty-eyed as Jake Locker throws spirals to Jermaine Kearse. Bawling like a schoolgirl while two defenders collide, snapping their necks in the process and literally killing each other, as Jake Locker runs between them through a cloud of smoke on his way to the end zone for six. Hell yeah. I should be making motion pictures.
You’re probably wondering why I keep referring to Jake Locker by his full name instead of just “Jake” or “Locker.” I don’t have an answer for that. But I will tell you that it just feels right. So I’m going with it. And you’re loving it.
Here’s the thing. We’ve spent most of the past decade searching for salvation, Husky fans. Through the Keith Gilbertson regime, the Tyrone Willingham dictatorship, and now the Steve Sarkisian era. We’ve craved it. We’ve yearned for it. We’ve clung to hopefuls like Carl Bonnell and Isaiah Stanback, pleading for guidance, seeking a Saturday sermon of solitude. And yet we’ve always been hung out to dry, left for dead, betrayed by our own optimism.
Well guess what. It’s a new year. A new effing year. And we’re jumping on one man’s back and riding him up and down the field like a thoroughbred. We need a lift. And this guy is gonna give it to us.
I’m looking for a trip to Pasadena. So is he. So are you. We all are.
I’m looking for something to believe in. Something to depend on. I’m looking for an oasis in this desolate wasteland that our sports landscape has become in the past few months. I need that. You need that. We all need that.
I’m here to tell you that this is the year. This is the year that Jake Locker saves us all. This is the year that we are back. The year that purple and gold are the only colors that matter. The year that we let everyone know where Washington is on their map.
Husky fans, this is it. Buckle up and grab onto something. It’s on. The return to greatness. The return to glory. The return of the Dawgs.