Dear Tim,

Congratulations on winning your first BCS National Championship as the starting quarterback of the Florida Gators. I know, some people give you credit for the one that other guy secured, despite the fact that his own fanbase and dirty, filthy  bloggers chided him for most of his career. But we both know better, don't we, Timmy? 

Anyhow, now that that's out of the way, have you given any thought to your future? A young man of your talents could become many things in life: pastry chef, tap dancer, crocs model, barroom bouncer, unlicensed surgeon. Maybe even an NFL fullback.

That's it! Tim, not every Heisman Trophy winner can grow up to become Rashaan Salaam. Some of them have to actually be successful professional football players. And that's the part you were born to play in the Dinner Theater of life, young Timothy.

As Dr. Lou would no doubt tell you, "today ith the firth day of the reth of your life!" So go fill out that draft paperwork, Tim. The NFL is a desolate and lawless place that sorely needs a man of your character, demonstrated blocking ability, and eyeblack creativity. Do not let the fact that you throw a football like you're slinging dog poo off your hand dissuade you. For that is not your calling, Baby Rhino. No, you are your generation's Scott Frost. And the future is now.

Plus, this way we won't have to listen to Fox's BCS announcing team discussing you in a vaguely inappropriate manner that would make even Verne Lundquist blush.

Go. Tim. Go. Like an Airtran 737, there's nothing stopping you.*

*Oh, and take Charlie Strong with you, please?