Pigskin Palooza

It is a hot, Sunday morning as the alarm clock vibrates, your eyes, wearily glancing at the digital time-teller. The time is 6:47 AM. After sipping on a chocolate protein shake and chowing down a microwavable breakfast burrito, you hear the casual cuckoo of the mail tracker set-up on the doorway. Time for more death threats. You stroll outside and open your mailbox to find an envelope with no stamp in the corner. You open it nervously, to find a message in slick calligraphy, "FootageFrogs, Lincoln Pk. Blvd. Every answer is in your grasp." What the hell?! You know what this letter means. FootageFrogs is a local camera feed storage shop that only applied members can enter, and certified members can view actual, primary video recordings. You hop into your silver-crystal Honda and drive off to the storage place. After barging past the entrance, a man at the front desk flinches and shuffles back nervously. "Goodell, what are you doing here?" You stare at the man with a stern look and then start to say "Find me the archives for Larry Fitzgerald's murder."
"Oh crap," the man replies, "Our recent crime footage has been wiped out."