Lucky Shirt

You've got a lucky shirt, don't you?

If you're like me you've had a few. The shirt you wore to all your high school dances. You felt taller and stronger in that shirt than any other shirt you owned. Then there was the new lucky shirt you had when you got to college; the one you wore when you took your Physics final and somehow aced it. Then the shirt that became the last lucky shirt you were ever going to need after that you wore on the first date that wound up at her place and she wore when she made you breakfast the next morning; the night and the day you still think about every time you look at the woman who became your wife. That shirt is still in your closet somewhere, isn't it? You'd never throw that shirt out. That shirt is straight voodoo. It's more powerful than the little blue blanket you had when you were just a year old and still sucking your thumb and that little blue blanket protected you from the monsters in your closet and your lucky shirt is is way more magical cotton blend bulletproof than that. There's nothing you couldn't do in that shirt.

Wearing that shirt, you could rally your team from a 25-point deficit in the Super Bowl and lead them to victory in overtime.

$500,000?

Nice opening bid.

Tom Brady has already said he wants to take advantage of getting his Super Bowl 51 jersey back to make something "very positive" happen. I would suggest that before he does anything else he puts that jersey on and visits hospitals, laying his hands on the lame and halt.

You know, just in case, because that's one damned lucky shirt.