Like neutrons fleeing the birth of the universe, the Lions managed to implode and explode all at once on Sunday night. Those neutrons became the waves to create a new universe of possibilities. Those possibilities are takes, and the takes are the waves. The waves crashed over Matthew Stafford and life began.
Matthew Stafford's stat line from Sunday was not palatable. It offended the senses: all five of them. The only word in the English language capable of this is "moist." Nothing good comes of describing a sensation as "moist." Not even cake.