I ain’t mad at you, son. I’m just disappointed. Those guys were freaking huge. No, son, you know what’s huge? Is a hole in my heart. Coming to the grips with the fact that you ain’t gonna be outstate like me and your granddaddy. I mean, are you scared to hit somebody? No, daddy. I said, are you scared to hit somebody? I said, no, daddy. Then are you? Five yards off the ball in a goal line stand. I just assume that we’re going to try a quick out route or something. You should hear what I gotta listen to bleachers. What do they say? Oh, you wouldn’t believe it, son. They’re just up there saying, why the hell is he on the team, huh? How the hell is he even Bobby’s son? And be honest with you, son, I’m starting to believe them. I’m sorry. No, I’m sorry, huh? No, I’m the one that’s sorry. I’m sorry about all the damn ipads I got you, huh? I’m sorry you care more about posting pictures on Snapbook and face chat and playing ball. I’m sorry. Can you take me higher? Why do you do this to me?