1:1 Dear Cowherds;
1:2 It hath come unto the Lord's attention that the Red of Skin of the Capital City have smitten a mighty blow unto the Herders of Beeves and Kine of the village of Dallas.
1:3 Lo, the number of their victory was twenty-seven to six, and the Herders of Kine smelléd not the Promised Land, yea even unto first and ten upon the enemy eighteen.
1:4 And the number of their rushing was one cubit.
1:5 ONE CUBIT.
1:6 And the number of the rushing of one man alone among the Red of Skin was one hundred and four cubits. In the fullness of time, the Herders of Kine let not this wondrous thing to happen, for their rush defense hath been mighty.
1:7 Woe unto the King of the Herders of Beeves and Kine, for he hath left his seed and strength in the dewy parts of harlots. Woe unto the offensive line of the Herders, who protecteth the King from harm, for they could not. Woe unto the defensive secondary of the Herders, who were beaten like unto a gong, and hide among the women and concubines.
1:8 Give me not the foolish prattle of children, who bleat saying "the mightiest warriors came not that day, for they were girding their loins for later battle." Upon my mighty pole may ye smoke. The King of the Herders came, and he suckled upon the teat of dead bears. No man hitteth Owens when seated upon his ass.
1:9 And yet thou believest not.
1:10 O unbeliever, thou hast not suffered this long season with the Red of Skin. Thou knowest not the agony when one witnesseth of a wise man foolishly calling two time-outs one upon the other, incurring the wrath of the Priests and Scribes, who delivered up the Red of Skin unto their enemies for slaughter. Thou knowest not the bitterness of the man who witnesseth the putting of the ball upon the ground, yea unto four times in sixteen plays; thus do the wicked prevail. Thou hast not seen with thine own eyes the progression of the clock when the wise man would fain have stopped it; and the calling of foolish plays; and the loss of vast lands upon the occasion of Third and Long.
1:11 These tribulations would make even unto a saint drink mightily from the cup of bitterness.
1:12 Yet unto this time of desperation, they surge. They proffer hope like unto bread upon a starving man.
1:13 They beat Dallas.
1:14 ONE CUBIT of rushing offense gave they them. ONE CUBIT.
1:15 Like unto a wet rag beat they them. Like unto a broken donkey. Like unto a step-child of red tresses. Like unto a child of great girth who stealeth lunches.
1:16 Give us this day Seattle.
1:17 Love, Paul
Later edit: I've discovered that one yard = two cubits, so amend accordingly. TWO CUBITS did they give them on the ground....