Dear Tiki,
I never thought I’d ever hear myself saying this to you, but I think it’s time we move our separate ways. I need to get over you. We need to move on.
I’ll always cherish the memories, Tiki. Like in 1997 when you scored your very first touchdown in a Giants uniform. It was the touchdown that prompted me to switch jersey numbers – from 27 to 21.
And how about the 2000 season? Do you remember how much fun we had that year? It probably wasn’t much fun for you, though, considering you had to carry Ray Lewis on your back for much of the last game… and much of the New York Giants team for that season.
From 2002 on things just kept getting better and better. You were a mainstay in all the Giants top offensive categories and the Hall of Fame seemed in reach.
In 2004, I cried, literally, when you broke the Giants all-time rushing record. From section 325 in Giants Stadium, on a day when playoffs didn’t matter, I was there for you when you proved you hadn’t give up on the fans or the Giants.
And forget the fumbles; I forgave you for every single one. Forget 2007, when retirement crept into the conversation and the wins started to fade. I said it then and I’ll say it again, you deserved to go out how you wanted.
As much as I’m reticent to admit it, I’ve got to be an Eli guy now – and I stick up for my guys. I was disappointed in you this week, Tiki. Granted what you said about Eli may not have been too far off the fairway, but let the Giants’ locker room situation pan itself out. There’s enough going on in Giants’ land already without you stirring the pot.
Last season, you asked Giants fans to move on from you as you called it a career. Most fans I’ve spoken to had moved on quickly. Not me, though. It’s taken me until now to accept that you’re gone… and maybe it’s time for you to do the same.
I’ll miss you Tiki.
Best,
Ryan Response? Email me!
