Okay, they could have taken a strong moral stand on domestic violence but sadly didn’t. They could’ve addressed player safety a long time ago but instead decided the ideal PR model was Big Tobacco. Deny. Delay. Litigate. Know the general public is addicted to your product. You just need to give them time to accept the fact your product has a, you know, side effect. Hey! Everybody dies, am I right? The NFL didn’t do a lot of things right off the field for the last decade. But they always delivered the product. No matter what else they screwed up, they always gave us what we wanted. The Chronic. Ecstasy. Football.
They always gave us football.
Wait - what?
I must admit, I was a little surprised at the number of pigskin pundits and bobbleheads who were willing to give the NFL a no big deal/nothing to see here pass on the Hall of Fame game. Just preseason (I’m sure this is great news for season ticket holders). Luck and Rodgers probably weren’t going to play, anyway. Made the right decision cancelling the game, instead of asking the players to play on poison tar.
That’s true of course.
Then again, they might’ve not covered the field with a toxic gelatinous goo in the first place.
New England was sucked into the vortex of the ensuing tweetnado, of course, because Patriots. The NFL’s shit compass always points northeast, toward Foxborough, MA. The photoshop of Brady’s face on the field attendant, exultant as he sprays the field, Belichick in his hoodie leaving the scene of the crime unnoticed, the comments that Brady is generally aware of paint and should be suspended an additional four games; it is just to laugh! Except for the fact I can picture that guy, you know, the guy with the Russell Wilson jersey he has his girlfriend wear for a little role-play, the guy nodding as his deepest, darkest suspicions about the Patriots are confirmed yet again.
That’s actually kind of funny, too, in a pathetic losery kind of way.
Yeah, I’m smiling.
I’m laughing on the inside.
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