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Plax Stole Feagles' Number


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Thu Aug 26 10:03am PDT

Jeff Feagles says Plaxico Burress stole his number


By Chris Chase


After Plaxico Burress finishes paying his debt to society, he'll have one more to settle.


Former New York Giants punter Jeff Feagles told Sports Illustrated that Plaxico never paid for the No. 17 jersey the receiver purchased from him after joining the team in 2005. Feagles had negotiated the deal with Plaxico's agent, Drew Rosenhaus, and the two reached an agreement: Plaxico got No. 17 in exchange for paying for some of Feagles' housework. It worked out perfectly, except for one little detail:


"I never got paid for it. I asked [burress] for it. Every time I went to Drew he said, 'That's between you and Plax.' Bottom line, I never got paid. He basically stole my number."


Rosenhaus wouldn't comment about the incident and Plaxico is, uh, unavailable to provide any comment, as he's finishing out a two-year jail sentence for violating New York's firearms laws.


Neither player had any special connection to No. 17. Feagles had selected the number the previous year because it was his 17th in the league, while Plaxico wanted it because he had signed on March 17. Feagles had sold his number once before. In 2004, Eli Manning(notes) got the punter's No. 10 in exchange for funding a Feagles family vacation to Florida.


This time though, the barter system failed. In the saddest twist of all, Feagles had to pay out of his own pocket for renovations to his outdoor kitchen. Just like out of a Dickens novel.



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Plax is a good guy...my bet is that as we speak Plax is making good on this and that there are two tractor trailers stuffed with cigarettes and the finest toilet wine Oneida Correctional facility has to offer on its way down state to the Feagles home.


I'll further bet the toilet wine is in the good ziplock bags and not those low rent twiisty bags you get more of your prison booze in.


Dude is a giver.


C. Wagon

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I remember shortly after Plax got busted, he was staying at my house.


I wake up on Saturday morning, and Plax is still sleeping. So, I figure for breakfast, I'd go and get some Dunkin Donuts, maybe lift his spirits a little.


So, I head up the street to the DD, and pick out a nice dozen....I'm talking jellies, bavarian cremes, apple cinnamon, couple boston cremes, chocolate glaze.


Anyway, I drop off the donuts, and he's still crashed out on my couch. So, while he's sleeping, I head over to the Home Depot, to pick up some shit, because my old lady is ragging on me about how the lawn is looking.


So, I get my shit at the Home Depot.....and return home.....Plaxico is nowhere to be found.


But there's fucking jelly stains all over my couch....so when my wife wakes up, she's going to be pissed. :furious:


Then, I go into the kitchen, and the box of donuts is there on the counter. I go to open the box, only to find the entire box is empty........except for one half-eaten fucking cruller. :ranting2:


So, I figure I'm right in line behind Feagles.



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