Fuck.

I guess it was only a matter of time before my luck finally ran out. And that time was today.

The commissioner just handed down his ruling… I’m suspended for the entire season, with a reevaluation of my future with the league sometime before next year. Even then, they may decide against reinstating me and nullify my contract and essentially, my career. His reasoning was that, despite my declared innocence and lack of jail time, my actions (both past and present) have damaged the league’s reputation. Essentially, he said he’s done with my shit.

In the past, I would take this out on the nearest wall or bottle of whiskey, but I’m not even mad. I’m not angry. I’m not hateful. I have no ill will towards the commissioner or his decision. I’m just so fucking numb.

In the end, I did this to myself. My irresponsible behavior continuously fucks up every good thing I have in life. First, it almost ruined my marriage and now, it may have just cost me the second dearest thing to my heart; football. I legitimately don’t know if I will ever be able to play the sport that I love ever again. And that scares the shit out of me.

I’ve got a lot of thinking to do. Without being a complete fucking cliché, something’s got to give. And I think that something is me.