Dear Mr. Veach,
I was wrong. I am sorry. I don’t need a Super Bowl appearance to admit it.
I figure you’ll appreciate such direct statements from the top, a getting to the point before making the point, if you will. Judging by your aggressive methods at times, I’m assuming the majority of your phone calls are over in seconds—like Al Pacino answering crime scene calls in Heat.
Back to the apology, I’ve owed you this for quite some time. I was a bleeding heart for John Dorsey‘s cause and, even now, remembering the way in which he left this franchise brings a tear like playing Lee Greenwood in July does for my grandfather.