"Hunting is an indispensable part of Wentz's life. His senior year, he arranged his class schedule so he'd have Tuesday mornings free. He and a friend would rise well before dawn so they could go duck or goose hunting 45 minutes outside of Fargo."
Great, now my hunting spot is going to filled with football players. Thanks a lot, ESPN.
Your hunting spot?? That's MY hunting spot! GTFO!
Seriously though, how easy was it for him to get access to a posted field:
*knocks on door*
"Uh, hi, my name's Carson. I was wondering if we could set up in the morning in that corn stubble behind your farm."
"Well, I dunno. My grandson wanted to hunt there this weekend... Wait...what's your name?"
"It's Carson."
"Carson Wentz??"
"Uh yeah."
"Holy crap! Nice to meet you son! Here, quick, sign my ball cap. My God I can't believe Carson Wentz is standing on my front step."
"Er, yeah, sure. No problem."
"Wow, thanks. Man, you've been playing great this year!"
"Thanks! We try. But it's getting late, I better get going to find another spot before sundown."
"Oh heck, hunt my field!"
"B-but I thought you said your grandson was going to hu..."
"Oh screw that little shit. You go right ahead! Maybe afterward you could stop by for some breakfast. Hey, ma! Take some sausage out of the freezer and get out the good China! Carson Wentz is coming over after hunting for breakfast!"
"....Um, thanks I think...."
"Don't mention it! Any time! Oh ma! Get the pastor on the phone! His last sermon was about divine intervention and he HAS to hear this!"
