Once upon a time, there was a man who felt no fear. His name was Jacksonville.
Things that scared other people did not scare Jacksonville. When Los Angeles came over, people said, "Watch out, those Chargers are tough!"
"What do I care?" said Jacksonville. He went right in and beat them.
"Watch out, Arizona is tricky!" people said.
"I'm not scared," said Jacksonville. He went right in and beat them.
"Watch out!" people said. "Those Titans can surprise you! Those Colts are surging! Those Jets have nothing to lose! Those Broncos are one of the best teams in the league!"
"They don't scare me a bit," said Jacksonville. He went right in and beat them all, one after another.
"Don't go back to Indianapolis! They'll get their revenge!" people said.
"It's just another day for me," said Jacksonville. He went right in and beat them again.
Everyone was amazed by Jacksonville's total lack of fear. They all cheered. But over time, it became clear that this gift had a darker side. Jacksonville would walk right out into traffic. "Watch out for those cars!" people would say. He would just shrug. "I'm not scared."
Jacksonville mouthed off to bigger men in bars. He pushed cops. He laid on the beach all day without sunscreen, threw all his money into risky investments, and drove too fast on winding streets. Whenever people would warn him to stop, he would just shrug. "Nothing scares me," he would say. "I'm as cool as a cucumber."
Something had to give. Eventually, Jacksonville's utter fearlessness caught up with him. He accrued great gambling debts, acted dismissively towards a judge in court, and ended up in jail. When he got there, he didn't get along. He would hog the payphones, cut in the chow line, and push rudely past anyone standing in his path. That didn't go over well with the other inmates. One weekday morning, when the guards were preoccupied, Jacksonville was stabbed by three unidentified attackers and bled out under a running shower. He died at 42.
Jacksonville had the sensation of being pulled through a long, dark tunnel. He felt intense heat prickling his skin, and smelled smoke. He opened his eyes, groggy, and saw a tall, red figure standing in front of him.
"Welcome to hell," the figure said. "I'm the devil. You lived a bad life, and now you'll be here, getting tortured, forever."
"I don't care," Jacksonville replied. "I'm the man who feels no fear. Nothing scares me. Hell is just another place for me to conquer."
"I thought you would say that," the devil said. "Your reputation precedes you. I have something special prepared for you."
At that, demons seized Jacksonville, dragged him into an empty room, blindfolded him, and tied him to a chair. All the while, Jacksonville just laughed. "You demons aren't scary! I might as well be on vacation. Your tricks won't do too much to me. You better ask around. Many just like you have tried before, and they all found out the same thing: Nothing. Scares. Jacksonville."
The room went dark. The devil's voice filled the air. "OK, Jacksonville. Here is your fate. Let's see how you like it."
The blindfold was torn off. Jacksonville opened his eyes. And, for the first time ever, he felt the odd, uncontrollable sensation of fear. Jacksonville let out a piercing scream.
Projected onto a screen in the front of the room was one word: "LITERACY."
“Jaguars Junction” is an independent source of football analysis unaffiliated with any professional sports franchise.
