Dear Plaxico "Cheddar" Burress
Man, I shoulda just stayed home and watched Law and Order like I said I was gonna...
via The New York Times:
About 10 a.m., Mr. Burress, dressed in a white long-sleeve T-shirt, blue jeans and black high-tops, was called to the front of the courtroom to officially receive a two-year prison sentence from Justice Michael H. Melkonian of State Supreme Court in Manhattan.
Boy oh boy.. 730 days, my dude. I hope you brought enough books or don't mind working out all day. To tell you the truth, it could have been a lot worse. If that gun had gone off in a different direction, you might be spending a little more time in the pen. Not to make fun of your predicament, but you have to see the irony and the humor in what happened here, Plax. In addition to shooting yourself in the club (we're not even gonna try and understand why you had a gun in the first place) you ended up losing your job as a Giant (funny how they've found a way to win without him so far) and now you're going to jail for two years, with no chance of parole because of New York's strict-ass gun control laws. The gun had been unlicensed for almost eight months at the time of the incident. So, in so many ways, this was just a case of utter stupidity mixed with bad judgment.
Like I said, I'm not here to joke on you, because prison is never a thing to take lightly, but if you saw this in a movie, wouldn't you be saying the same thing? I'm sure you have at least one friend who's seen 8-Mile, and alluded to Cheddar Bob at one point or another. But seriously, when are some of you athletes gonna learn? If you need a gun to run around town in the first place, chances are you probably shouldn't be out on the town anyway. So, while I loathe how badly this case has turned out for you, you can't say there haven't been a couple of precedents set before you even stepped into the club. We haven't seen or heard from the Pac-Man Jones we originally knew and loved, so who's to say that you'll be able to come back? I suppose it's too early to tell, but two years down the line, we'll have chalked this one up to DNS (Dumb Nigga Syndrome), and the world will keep turning. Keep your head up and your soap on a rope, Plaxico. We'll keep our #17 jerseys ready for your return, hopefully...