There they stood, ranging on up to 6½ ft. tall, bulging with the kind of muscles it takes to bend a railroad spike between thumb and forefinger. Their team had already won its fifth National Football League division championship in seven years, and chances were, they could hardly have cared less that they still had one regular-season game to play against the Los Angeles Rams. So why were they doing pushups, and running wind sprints? Could it really have been because a chubby pipsqueak with glasses was screaming at them: "You don't...
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