Everything is Forever

That's it, I guess. Nothing left but to own it.

 

Robert Kraft was certainly right about one thing. There are the loyal citizens of Patriots Nation on the one side of this thing (we've hidden Tom Brady deep in the woods of Maine – You'll never take him alive!). On the other side there are the people who've put down their pitchforks and torches long enough to elect a foreman, order lunch and hand in a verdict of Hell Yes They Cheated! No doubt those same people will smugly see Kraft's "end it/don't extend it" speech as an admission of guilt. There was nothing to be gained by an appeal. Regardless of how it turned out, it wasn't going to overturn the verdict in the court of public opinion. We've all made up our minds, one way or the other. Not that Kraft had a fat man on Tinder's chance of getting Roger Goodell to swipe right. Kraft was going to lose an appeal and (as we now all seem to agree) Kraft was never going Al Davis on the NFL.

I don't think there was any quid pro quo for Brady's suspension, either. In fact, I think Brady is screwed, now. Goodell can't overturn the suspension without it looking like a reach around for Kraft. If that weren't enough, if Brady wins by discrediting the Wells Report, what does that mean for the $1M in fines and the lost draft picks? If Brady isn't guilty, the Patriots aren't guilty, right? Goodell cannot let that happen. Goodell will not recuse himself and he damned well won't ask for Tagliabue's help this time, not after Tags vacated the Bountygate punishments. Goodell will hear the appeal and he will uphold the suspension.

Yes, I can only hope that's a reverse jinx.

Assuming the appeal fails to overturn his suspension – even if it's reduced to a two-game ban – can Brady be talked out of taking the NFL to court to clear his name and salvage his legacy?

As noted above, even if Brady were to restore his reputation by way of the very same American legal system that let O.J. walk, it wouldn't move the needle in his "Are you better off today than you were before Tom Brady was more likely than not to have been generally aware of deflated footballs?" poll numbers. People who feel worse off today than they did last summer blame Tom Brady for this nauseating malaise. Only President Obama, Member of Congress, that movie with Reese Witherspoon and Sofia Vergara and ISIS have lower approval numbers than Brady.

On the other hand, even if Brady's appeal fails and his subsequent court case is dismissed, myself and many others will continue to believe Tom Brady got shived by Roger Goodell in the yard while the guards were distracted. Goodell's biggest mistake? He didn't kill Tommy!

Whoa. Did I say that out loud? It was a metaphor, of course. The shiving part. I mean, come on! Goodell could never take Brady in a knife fight.

Where was I?

The point is, nothing changes. Minds don't change. Deeply held beliefs are immune to all facts to the contrary. Everything is forever.

There's still more to come. I'll hold out hope for Brady's appeal, of course.

There is this, though.

This isn't like Spygate. That happened. Bill Belichick never denied doing what he did. Mistakes were made; penalties were paid.

That's not the narrative this time. This time – my fellow believers – it's an injustice! Tom Brady, the best qwatahback evah, was falsely accused and convicted. It may be years from now but deep down we know that if there is any justice in this universe (there isn't but there are funny bounces sometimes) Tom Brady will be vindicated and Roger Goodell will die in an alley, alone, penniless, in stained and ragged, ill-fitting, off-the-rack clothing, his lifeless face laying in a puddle of his own pathetic tears and some homeless guy's semen.

Okay, that was a bit harsh.

Alone, penniless, sitting in his underwear in a chair he found by the side of the road, vomit staining his shirt, caked around the corners of his mouth, a plate of cold linguine Bolognese laced with arsenic in his lap, a fork and spoon still clutched in his hands with the TV tuned to Animal Planet.

Still too harsh?

Let's see.

In an Applebee's men's room, on the toilet, castrated, his tighty whities bunched around his ankles, a single bullet hole in the too inviting target of his inhumanly large forehead?

Yeah, that sounds good.

Not that it will change anything, of course.