You just gotta keep doing it, okay, just keep doing it over and over, do it thousands of times, 'cause you'll get that muscle memory. Just y'know, just forget about the guys, the big guys charging at you, and the fans, the chaos, just like, zone in, inside yourself and forget it all, let it all, the chaos, just let it go. Just let it go, you know?

“You like that color, Lorraine?” “I sure do, honey.” Mrs. Saracen peers down at her feet, wiggles her toes in Tyra’s grip. “Makes me feel feisty.”

Football spiraled through the air until it didn't, dropping right into Tim's hands and Jason howled, "Timmmyyy!" Pigskin cupped tight against his side, Jason's shout in his ears, and it just... It felt right.

“You’re a thing of beauty, Tyra Collette. A sight for sore eyes.” She can feel her eyes rolling. “Whatever.” “So, what’re you?” he slurs. “Stone cold bitch or just misunderstood?” Hell, at least he’s funny.

"My God, you are just not the sharpest tool in the shed, are you, Riggins?"

Landry loved the rodeo like a fat kid loved cake -- but he had to stop quoting 50 Cent, because that wasn't what soon-to-be-very-rich-and-famous-and-have-Jessica-Alba-on-speed-dial, Christian-death-metal-rock-gods listened to.

“No, really—this is, like—see you’re getting a new perspective on—” “Landry. Shut up.”

Crucifixtorius break up a week after Tim sees them play. Well, 'play' is not really the right word, but Tim doesn't know a word for 'bring death and destruction upon the eardrums of anyone within a twenty mile radius.'

"I could have been born two weeks ago and named for our Dallas Cowboys QB1," Landry said. Julie laughed, louder this time. "Okay, that would be completely crazy. Seriously, that's, like, child abuse." "Plus, he could suck next week," Matt said.