First off, I’d like to thank my coach. Without his decision to give me the ball each and every down, each and every possession, I could never have rushed for 400 yards multiple times this past season with the Los Angeles Raiders. His belief in me is inspiring, and I thank him for giving me this new opportunity.

In order to break 500 yards, I will employ my usual zigzag running style. My coach has seen the benefits of this practice, and I’m sure once again he’ll be coaching me to run from the top of the field down to the bottom. Just as a defender is about to tackle me, I’ll cut back to the top of the field again, losing him. I’ll zigzag my way down the field, into the end zone and, hopefully, God willing, to 500 yards.

I do understand the danger of this task I am undertaking. During my 400-yard-rushing games, medics had to administer oxygen to me on the sidelines. After each game, Tecmo doctors diagnosed that I was suffering from life-threatening levels of dehydration.

Last week, the coach had a slumber party with a few friends from school. They played two whole seasons in one night. My heart stopped, and medics worked quickly and efficiently to give me shots of adrenaline, which brought me back to life. I am not complaining; these are just the facts. I am honestly willing to die for 500 yards. And my coach is willing to let me.

Please know that I may not break the record on the first attempt. We may have a few false starts. If, for example, the Raiders quarterback is sacked, and he fumbles, causing a turnover, then the coach might kick the Nintendo box. If an injury occurs to a key Raider player during the game, then coach might flick off the power in one of his notorious pouting fits. He might “spaz out,” as one of his little friends put it last week during the sleepover. It will take a couple minutes to reboot the game system, but I’ll be back on the field again, with a clean slate, ready to give it my best shot at the 500 yards. I just pray that any computer glitches go our way.