Agent Coulson, we love you.

No really, we do.

We’ve seen all the pre-Avenger Marvel movies—Iron Man, Iron Man 2, The Incredible Hulk, The First Avenger, Thor—and well, you inspire us.

You don’t have special powers, exceptional brains, or colossal brawn. You don’t fly around in a suit of armour or throw a mean shield, even though you work for it. You aren’t remotely buff, particularly handsome, or even partly sexy. in fact (I hate to break it to you) but you’re balding quite a bit on top there.

That said,

You’re likeable. Loveable, even.

You’re loyal to a fault.

You’re witty.

You’re committed.

You’re altruistic.

You’re unflappable.

Your quiet service and leadership mattered to the larger story. A lot.

You should also know that just after you died, Nick Fury used your sacrifice to galvanize the super-flunkies because they couldn’t get their junk together. Their hubris imploded the team and almost scuttled the dream.

Your “power” wasn’t quite as super, but it set a moral explosion in motion that saved the planet.

So good for you.

Agent Coulson, we salute you.

So we rise up, captain our captain.

We don’t have special powers either.

We’re not particularly smart.

We can’t bench-press a house or survive a fall from the sky.

Our anger issues aren’t particularly useful.

We don’t own suits of armour with arc reactor technology.

We don’t throw a mean shield.

We’re not buff, beautiful, or sexy.

We’re “Joe Guy,” just like you, and you’ve helped remind us of the truth:

The world isn’t saved with superpowers.

It’s saved with sacrifice.

It’s saved by Phils.

Like you.

Like me.

Like us.

Rest in Peace, brother.

PS: That was cool when you blasted Loki through the wall.

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