Peyton and Elisha Manning will face each other for the first time in the Pro Bowl on Sunday. Here are their letters home.
My Dearest Momma,
I have not written you since the unfortunate events of the NFC divisional battle against the Eagles, and I gladly avail myself of another opportunity to write you a few lines to ask your blessings upon me. We are preparing a raid upon the AFC and I fear I shall look across the field and see the eyes of my dear brother, your son, Peyton. This has given me many sleepless nights. I have begun wetting the bed even more than normal. The stench of urine is all around me. My heart is heavy. As is my diaper. Please send more. I can not bear to ask the hotel cleaning lady to bring me a new mattress again. It would surely break her.
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I yearn for you. An ocean is between us, yet your songs still set my heart aflutter. Praises be for God’s magnificent iPod creation! Yet even as I listen to “When The Sun Goes Down,” storm clouds gather. For I am to meet my dear brother Elisha on the field of battle. And I am scared, Kenny. You sustain me, but I am wracked with fear and unease. Reports are that Elisha has with him a great force. However, thanks to Our Maker’s grace, his most powerful lieutenant, Plaxico Burress, was felled by friendly fire not three months ago while running a covert operation as a Mr. Harris Smith. If only my forces were at full-strength. But, alas, they are not. I am without my finest soldier, Marvin Harrison, and his trusty Belgian firearm. Please, Kenny, shouldst this letter reach you before the battle, please write a song for me. Make it beautiful. Make it hopeful. Make it gay.