Dear little tiny baby Jesus in the straw, with the golden light shining all around your perfect little head, and all the animals an' wise men, and beautiful starry night sky everywhere... you there in thay tiny wooden manger, not quite rocking back-n-forth, cuz they hadn't created rockers or cribs yet, although your daddy Joseph - Papa Joe we like to call him - was and still is a carpenter by trade, and could if he tried real real hard, created the 1st crib... Dear sweet nearly naked (except for swaddling) savior of mankind... could you allow this huge fat man, 370lbs or more, Big Mac he's called... to not get out quarterback RT17; Tann the Man - not maimed or killed via sacks over-and-over again during tomorrow's game vs those demon worshiping heathens in New England. we thank you and kiss your tiny perfect shinning finely angel manicured fingertips... amen.