Men meet on the grid of iron, iron! So they all know the rules and lines as men like to know. They know what lines to cross and which not to. They were taught the rules of the lines. This is what figures. There is no one there to ask about their figure, "How's my figure?" For that's a hard sort of figure to figure out. Although one might like to do some figuring on it.
But no, on the grid, it all figures. Will players seek to bend the rules? Will it be those weaker of them? Will they be caught if they do?
Tweet, tweet! Yes, someone has been caught. He was offsides. Look at this wretch who was not on his own side of the line. He says, "Don't be intolerant, I just wanted to see things from all sides....man." But no one listens to his excuse. For he had violated the law, a law like iron. He was off his own side for all to see.
Just which side was he playing for, anyway? The men who were at his side look at him. One whispers, "Somehow, he just looks like he wants to play for the other side." Another says, "Yeah, I thought he was a little too nicey nice with the pats on the butt all the time too!" That law breaker and blurrer! Now he must see things from the side again, the side line. So he goes off of the gridiron. For he would break the grid.
The offense tries to move down the field but the good guy's side intercepts their deeply offensive attempt. So the offense is turned on its head by a very fast good guy. He runs down the field, faking them all out. He has not broken the law of the grid of iron with his interception, not at all.
So he runs, he scores, as the cloud of witnesses all around watching goes wild!
(And so, the Eagles win....on a wing and a prayer, as the birds of prey must pray.)