King of the NFL

He didn't look like a king. He was usually scrambling for his life from salivating, hungry defensive linemen who always knew it was feast day. Though they tried hard, his offensive linemen were always outmatched, like boys playing against men. They couldn't help him, they couldn't keep his safe. All the land he really asked for was a three-foot square chunk of turf in the pocket to pass from, but he rarely found it; and never could he stay there for long. He was sacked more times than Carthage. When he came out of college, he was the Matt Leinart or Vince Young of his day. He was The Franchise. Trouble was, he played on a franchise team just a few years out of the gate in the NFL and the learning curve for a new team was steep. Impossibly steep. Instead of shining like the star everyone knew he was, on a weekly basis he was battered and beat up like he lived in a cage with Mike Tyson. Hardly able to put his team in the playoffs alone, it took everything he had to put his feet on the floor on ... (link)