Saturday afternoon, on a plane. Decide to dial up Remember the Titans, a 2000 film I’ve never seen. For a few hours I was entertained, albeit there isn’t a plot-twist you don’t see a mile away. Predictable, but sure, memorable.
Sunday afternoon, on a plane, watching video feeds and wrestling with pesky internet. I can assure you, I’ll remember the 2019 Titans. Now this is a story no one could see coming.
Ryan Tannehill? Ordinary journeyman, flamed out in Miami, now ready for clipboard or headset duty.
A.J. Brown? Hey, this isn’t 2014. We don’t rock with rookie wideouts.