Now, I can't do it for you. I'm too old. I look around. I see these young faces, and I think -- I
mean -- I made every wrong choice a middle-aged man can make. I, uh, I pissed away all my money, believe it or not. I chased off
anyone who's ever loved me. And lately, I can't even stand the face I see in the mirror.
You know, when you get old in life things get taken from you. I mean
that's...part of life. But, you only learn that when you start losing stuff. You find out life's this game of inches. So is football. Because in
either game; life or football, the margin for error is so small -- I mean one-half a
step too late, or too early, and you don't quite make it. One-half second too slow, too fast, you don't quite catch it.
On this team, we fight for that inch. On this team, we
tear ourselves and everyone else around us to pieces for that inch. We claw with our fingernails for that inch, because we
know when we add up all those inches that's gonna
make the FUCKIN' difference between WINNING and LOSING! Between LIVIN' and DYIN'!
I'll tell you this: In any fight, it's the guy who's willing to die who's gonna win that inch. And
I know if I'm gonna have any life anymore, it's because I'm still willin' to fight and die
for that inch. Because that's what livin' is! The six inches in front of your
face!!