The Great Sam Bradford Photo Album Part 1

Grab yourself a big block of Cheddar Jack, some crackers, and a cool, frosty snapple and enjoy.

Here I am during the spring game in which I threw the football out of the stadium. Some estimates are that I threw it as far as half a mile. I think that is pretty conservative. See that goofy grin on my face? It's because Manuel Johnson was wide open in the end zone and I still chose to throw the football out of the stadium. Manny was pissed, but everybody else thought it was cool to see a football flying out of the stadium.

Here I am waving to OU fan Toby Keith after another easy win. Despite the fact that Toby sings the most anti-OU song ever ("Should've Been a Cowboy"), I still like his music. Sometimes in the locker room, I sing Toby Keith songs only I change the words. My favorites are "How Do You Like Sam Now?", "Beer For My Big Fat O-Linemen" and "Get Drunk and Be Sam Bradford."

Weekend's here, and I'm really bored.

Gonna get drunk and be Sam Bradford.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Here I am in "scramble mode" or as I sometimes also refer to it as - "my big, fat, stupid O-line broke down again" (sometimes I just yell out "MBFSOBDA!" and take off running). It's all in good fun. Coop and Duke know that I'm a big kidder and that I could snap their achilles tendons with one errant throw if they ever piss me off.
I like the occasional O-line breakdown, because it enables me to get out of the pocket and tease the linebackers by running out of bounds just before they try to hit me. Linebackers are wusses. If I was a linebacker, I'd still hit the QB out of bounds and take the 15 yard penalty. That's just me, though. I'm a badass. In fact, Stoopsey should let me play middle linebacker every now and then just to improve our defense especially with Ryan and Austin both out with injuries. If I had a season ending knee injury, I would cut my leg off, get me a cool OU prosthetic and be ready to go for the next game. That's just me, though.

See those burnt orange shirts. Makes me sick. Sure we lost 45-35 to them, and we gotta see all those banners and signs that read 45-35 all the time now. The only reason we lost that game is because our defense tends to suck from time to time and I only got to throw the ball 39 times. I've tried to tell the O.C. (Kevin Wilson) that 50+ Bradford throws = a win everytime. I don't know why Stoopsey doesn't let me call the plays. You know what though? Even though we would have won the game with me calling the plays, I don't let it bother me, cause I'm going to Kansas City for the Big 12 championship game with a big ol' block of provolone in my suitcase, and those poor Longhorns will be sitting at home.

Here I am in the huddle telling jokes in between scores. Juan (#9) Iglooskates loves the one about the woman who goes to the doctor. She's very worried and she asks the doctor if she can get pregnant from anal intercourse. And the doc says sure you can - where do you think Longhorn fans come from?
That one kills the fellas everytime!

Check out the dude in the Sox cap behind me. First of all, I almost turned around and punched him in the face for wearing a Chicago WhiteSox cap to an OU football practice. I have ninja like awareness and skills in which I can kill people within two seconds if I think they are trying to hurt me, and that WhiteSox dude looks pretty scary to me. He has his fangs out and everything like he was getting ready to bite me like some crazy ass vampire or something. Well my throwing arm serves as a metal spike and I'll ram it into your heart before you can blink. Just ask Coach Heupel or as I like to call him, Coach Hasbeen. He's seen me do it before.

I like this picture because it makes me laugh. Look at little DeMarco on the ground all flailing around like the little running back that he is. I have this picture in my locker, and I'm always saying 'hey DeMarco, why are you laying on the ground in this picture? And against Tulsa?' He always says something like it's because he's trying to block for his cracker quarterback. Then I always say, DeMarco, I'm six foot five and built like a Greek god. The only thing that can ever bring me down is if I run head first into Mike Gundy's hair. Then, we both laugh and I tell him he better never miss a blocking assignment or I'll kill him. I'm serious.

You see this photo? I hate this photo. I am handing the ball off to Chris Brown or maybe DeMarco Murray. Hell, it doesn't matter, because I am handing the ball off! The best thing about handing the ball off is when DeMarco or Chris runs into the backside of our offensive line for a two yard loss (which seems to happen quite a bit) giving us second or third down and long. And we all know what that means - time for a Bradford Bomb, time to unleash the Sammy cannon, time to sling the rock. (The babes especially like it when I unleash the Sammy Cannon). Stoopsey knows that the national title runs threw my right arm, not through a hole on the left side of the line.

Look at my concentration! Look at my right arm gun, ladies! Grrr. I look like Tiger Woods staring down a 15 footer to win the Masters on this throw (only I'm better looking). I remember this throw. I was about to throw it to Malcolm Kelly last season when I realized that I had my arm cocked especially tight and that there was a good chance that my throw would knock his hands off and split Malcolm's head into two pieces. Then, his family would be mad at me for killing him with my tight spiral and Coach Stoops would have been pissed at me, because it would have been a 15 yard delay of game penalty on us, and there's nothing he hates more than delay of game penalties... well, that and big blocks of muenster cheese. He hates those too.

Look at me whip the pigskin like a modern day Jesus whipping loaves of bread and fish to a congregation of thousands. That's how I feel somedays. I'm like, here's some bread for you, Manny. Here's a fish for you, Jermaine. Hey, Juaquin, I didn't forget about a nice rye roll for you, buddy. And to you, Ryan Broyles, I know how you love that Tilapia! Now, go get me some water and we will party down!

Here I am at Texas Tech last year after suffering a so-called concussion. That's bull crap though. I felt pretty good. I felt like a ninja jacked up on helium. That's how I felt. It's hard to describe that feeling to the average human. Most don't understand and that's why I had to sit on the bench. I don't know why little Bobby wouldn't put me back in. The only thing I was really suffering from on the sidelines is that hamburger sized pimple on my forehead. Geez, that's embarassing, but I don't get acne except when I am in Texas. That is why my doctor says I should stay the hell out of that God-forsaken state.

Finally, one of my all time favorite photos is this one of me on a Navy aircraft carrier flight deck last spring break. The Navy flew me to the Persian Gulf and gave me a box of footballs with explosives in them. They would give me coordinates to al-qaeda hideouts and a-hole Iraqi hiding places, and I would get to fling the footballs off the carrier and blow up shit. It was awesome! I had about 57 kills while I was there. My only incompletion was one that I accidentally threw into Iran by accident. No innocent people were hurt. I think it blew up a camel dealership or something.

More awe-inspiring photos of greatness will be forthcoming!