Once more unto the breach, dear Patriots, once more,
Or close the defense up with our injured players!
In the press conference there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest words and humility;
But when the cheers of the fans blow in our ears,
Then imitate the action Tedi Bruschi:
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favoured rage;
Then give the Jets a terrible beatdown.
Adapted from Henry V, Act 3
He which hath no stomach to play 60 minutes,
Let him depart; his trade shall be made to the Bills…
We would not play in that man's company…
This game is called Monday Night Football:
He that plays this day and beats the Jets,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,
And rouse him at the mention of Monday Night Football…
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day.
And Monday Night Football shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be rememberèd;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he today that plays 60 minutes for me
Shall be my brother; …
And gentlemen in New England, now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That demolished the Jets on Monday Night Football.
Adapted from Henry V, Act 4
