"Okay, stud, here's the bottom line," said a middle aged fast talking short balding man, "You're not playing football again - least ways not professionally. Now it's not the end of the world, kid. The insurance policy and that sweetheart contract I negotiated for you will keep paying for a few more years, but we gotta think beyond that. I've already heard from a couple networks about a possible color commentary job - but we both know you're dumb as a post, so I won't go that route to humiliate you. But you're pretty good with rehearsed speeches, so I figured what the hey, why not try politics. You're too young for Congress, but you're over 18, so the statehouse if fair game. You're a real icon in your home town and the idiot Assemblyman just voted to raise his own pay in the middle of a state fiscal crisis. Oh, he garnished it up, as a pay increase for state workers - but his pay is indexed to the theirs, so it's an auto pay increase. But the local paper is taking him to task, raise state workers salaries then force them to take pay cuts by furloughing them, so he can get a pay raise is the general take of the editorials. I can see you're confused. Don't worry about the details that's my job. I'm still your business manager and agent kid, but now I'm your campaign mananger too. As part of your rehab therapy, I've scheduled you daily speech therapy. And best of all if you get stumped in a debate or q&a, it'll come off like your opponent is attacking your disability. I've got a letter from two doctors for the disability insurance confirming that your brain damage was limited to your speech communication center according to the CT scan. They don't know that the part that wasn't damaged doesn't work too well anyway. Oh, kid, I just had a thought, maybe that speech center's been damaged all these years from pee football injury or something, and you've really got a brain like Albert Einstein inside that thick skull of yours? Oh, c'mon kid, it wasn't that bad a joke, come on give Manny a smile. There, smiling in the face of adversity." He snaps a pic with his iPhone.
He taps the iPhone with his index finger. "Man, I love this thing. You just get well, and do what the docs and therapists tell you, Mr. Assemblyman. I'm going to email this photo to a friend at the Chronicle telling him how you were reading the editorial in the paper - I put it on your lap and got it in the photo. Anyway I'll give him a scoop and get his paper's endorsement for you all at once. You're a shoo-in as a write in candidate in November. Oh, and I'll get your fan club on it too, and I bet I can get the franchise to kick in a donation for your campaign. Well, catch you later, kiddo, I got things to do if I'm going to turn you into the next Barack Obama...okay, maybe Hulk Hogan would be a better anaology. He got to be governor. Hm, I'll see how it plays with the paper, maybe I can run you for governor - I don't think this state has age limits, term limits yes, age limits? Hm? Bye!"
He slams the door behind him, and your brain is still throbbiing. Governator? You? Hm?