Christmas Letters from all 32 NFL teams

Dear Santa,

Tis I, the lone Los Angeles Chargers fan.

Thank you for gifting me an entire stadium and football team. As the only fan in the stand, I felt compelled to acknowledge that gift you bestowed on my being. I will never doubt your existence again for you have proven to be a higher deity than the one who walks upon the water.

When I connected with you through the written word last year, I did not know the power that such words held. While the rest of the world has been consumed with their facial recognition phones and their Bladerunner typewriters, they become oblivious to the ways of the written word. Our greatest of ancestors survived via the chiseling of words. We must not neglect the yellow lead and white tree.

My request for a football team had fallen on deaf ears in previous years, but I foolishly asked in improper ways. Requesting the gift of “majestic money” in its various forms could be misinterpreted. You do not hand money to the man without a home. You hand him a home.

Last year, I had a premonition that re-routed my request. I foresaw the city of God’s children being unable to support another team of helmeted Rugby players. I preyed upon their consumption of theatrics and basketBall, betting that the addition of another non-European football team would fall by the wayside, leaving me as the lone supporter.

My intuition proved correct. Los Angeles could not quell their addictions long enough to see the Rivers named Phillip gently bore downstream with Flash Gordon and Barry Allen’s Brother running alongside.

Upon your request, I have left the baked dough and cows urine on the counter.

Signed, Matthew.