1 minute reading time (287 words)
Broadway Joe Namath
Dear Joe Namath,
Joe. Joe. Joe. I have hesitated to write this letter because I know so many will disagree. Heck, you will probably disagree with me! But Joe, this morning I hit bottom. Couldn't take it anymore.
I am packing to go home to New Orleans for a Saints Game at the Dome! Baby! Going to see Alvin Kamara. OMG. Fuh real. So, I am thinking football. And then, there you are...in a cheesy commerical.
Joe, you weren't just a football player. You WERE Broadway Joe Namath! The white shoes! The fur coat! The hat! You were photographed with every body. Even Raquel Welch. You were interviewed by everybody. Even Johnny Carson! You WERE Broadway Joe Namath. One of a kind.
You need to deep six the Medicare commercials. Damn, Joe, if you need a ride or a meal, I am pretty sure we can arrange it for you. And I understand that these are great services that many people need, but can't you leave the push to some other guy like you used to do Joe? Some offensive lineman? Somebody we don't know. Somebody who was not Broadway Joe Namath!
And I know things have changed. Heck, Joe, I was shocked to find out that my cell phone "is my ticket to the game." Had to have someone way younger set it up for me. And who knew you need an NFL increased security "Stadium Bag." The alternative is putting your cheap cosmetics in a see through bag for the entire SuperDome to see. I get it, Joe, I do.
But you just cannot do Medicare commercials. You just can't. You ARE Broadway Joe Namath and you always will be.