Please And Thank You

No worries now.

Robert Kraft has personally written a letter to Roger Goodell asking for the draft picks back that were taken away for Spygate and to have Tom Brady's four-game suspension to be lifted. Oh, did I say Spygate? Of course I meant Deflategate. Spygate was like eight years ago. Silly me.

No, it won't make a difference. Science didn't matter, why should civility?

I've got to like Belichick's style in this case. Don't even step inside the same room with that giant mutant bedbug in a human suit until he has to.

At the Super Bowl.

Enjoying the Moment

So, everyone hates the Patriots and thinks they're cheaters but now I don't care.

Speaking Of

I've been way too much in my own head lately.

Speaking of…

The Real Tom Shady

You want my name.

You want my game.

You want my fame.

You want me to take the blame for mistakes that you made.

A Laughing Matter

Sorry I've been gone for a while. I just needed a break, I guess. That's it. It wasn't another bout of writer's block. It wasn't remitting, relapsing ennui, brought on by the end of Jon Stewart's run with the Daily Show, the realization that black lives don't matter or we wouldn't need #blacklivesmatter, that mass shootings are the new normal, that fewer people believe in science than believe in fairies, that there are bad cops and the fact there are many good cops does not negate that, that we have leaders who would rather drop a dozen nukes on Tehran than give peace a chance and since this is a republic that fact is undeniably our fault, that facts and truth don't matter when p'ositions of power are up for grabs or the fact I feel like Donald Trump has moved in with me and he just won't shut up.

I just needed a break.

Did you miss me? Anyone? Hello?

Is this thing on?

Wait-What?

Wasn't this about air pressure in footballs?

It Was Bisciotti All Along

Earlier this week, I saw a story that reminded me of one of my deeply held beliefs. It goes like this: Everybody thinks that everybody else thinks like them. If you're honest and forgiving, you think everybody else is honest and forgiving. If you're a liar and a cheat, you think everybody else is a liar and a cheat. If you believe everything, including you good name and reputation is transactional, you think everybody else believes that, too. Maybe that's why the NFL thinks they can "wear down" Tom Brady.

Roger Goodell (FTG) and the rest of the weasels, the swine, the closeted fascists and the greedy little hustlers in the NFL's league office may well have a price point on their mothers' lives but they are at least familiar with Thomas Edward Patrick Brady, Jr., aren't they?

The 6th round draft pick who twice became MVP of the league and the winningest QB in NFL history? Six Super Bowl appearances, four Lombardi trophies and three Super Bowl MVP awards, author of the greatest comeback in Super Bowl history? Tied for #3 on the all-time 4th Quarter Comeback list? This is the guy they're going to "wear down?"

Why am I reminded of that moment in "Ghostbusters" when Peter Venkman turns to Ray Stanz and says, "Get her! That was your whole plan, huh?"

I Hate Reasonable People

You know who you are. You see both sides of every question. You love to play Devil's advocate. You're the worst kind of politically correct. I'm looking at you, Kevin Flanagan.

No End In Sight

There was a brief moment last week when it seemed we might hear from Roger Goodell (FTG) on Tom Brady's appeal. Then it didn't happen. The latest consensus from the gridiron cognoscenti is the end of July.

Followed by Brady and the NFLPA taking Goodell to court.

Does Anything Other Than Gravity Matter?

It wasn't really a revelation so much as a recognition. Writer's block is all about fear of failure, of being judged and found to be wanting. I'm not sure it helped. Yes, I'm writing but I read that quote about writer's block three days ago. I'm still pausing an agonizingly long time between sentences even now. I know you, gentle reader, can't tell but it just happened again, between this sentence and the last one. I promised myself I wasn't going to be one of those millions of others with a blog, writing about nothing but themselves, proving on a daily basis they really didn't understand the characters and story lines that are woven like coarse threads through their own lives but here I am, it seems, writing about myself without the slightest of insights. I'm lazy, vain, near-sighted, insecure, increasingly aware of my own mortality and I'm subject to the laws of gravity.

I've got it better than 99% of the people on this planet and I still find time to feel sorry for myself.

I do feel it; the fear of failure, of being judged and found to be wanting.

But enough about me (and possibly you).

Tom Brady, Robert Kraft, Roger Goodell and Ted Wells walk into a bar…

Scripting Roger

The consensus amongst the gridiron cognoscenti is that Roger Goodell (FTG) won't be announcing his decision on Tom Brady's Deflategate appeal any time soon. No doubt he has his speech writers working overtime on that announcement as he clearly has some serious tap-dancing to do around the tattered Wells Report and the grudging acknowledgement by pigskin pundits and bobbleheads that the NFL was out to get the Patriots and Tom Brady. Perhaps worse for The Commish and his cronies is the fact they will soon have to face the wrath of the rest of the pigskin world for boning it so badly once Brady and the NFLPA have their day in Federal Court. This is a circle I'm not sure Goodell can square. He's probably better off with a press release than a stand up.

I have no idea what he will say but here's what I'd recommend…

Deflategate Ennui

I've gotten to the point where I see the link, a link designed to make me click because it either elicits a knee-jerk reaction of outrage or sparks a glimmer of hope the NFL will finally awake from its fever dream of a world where the New York Jets are playing the New York Giants in the Super Bowl, but I just can't bring myself to move the cursor over it and click. Call it Deflategate ennui.

Hearts or Minds

A frightening number of Americans are science deniers. Evolution? Just a theory. Climate Change? God hugging his favorite planet just a little tighter. Dinosaurs? Jesus ponies!

The Ideal Gas Law?

Should I be really be surprised that so many people believe in their hearts that Tom Brady cheated?

Especially the ones riding Jesus ponies. I probably shouldn't have counted on them.

Hey, anybody got a cigarette? I'm thinking of taking up smoking. I hear it's like totally safe.

Send Out The Clowns

The circus came to town today and that's always fun. Except for the clowns. I mean, how do they all fit in that little car? It's unnerving. And what's with the sad-face makeup? I wish I hadn't mentioned that. I'm going to have a hard time going to sleep tonight.

Anyway, isn't it time we got down to business?

On Further Review...

Why does the NFL have coach's challenge and official review?

To get it right.

Why can't the same principle apply to the Wells Report?

Still Waiting for the Outrage

I think comparing the Wells Report to a steaming pile of shit is an insult to actual piles of shit. There are commercial uses for piles of shit, after all.

Perhaps the NFL should sue Ted Wells for the $5m they paid him instead of fining the Patriots and suspending Tom Brady.

Wonderland

"…it is still amazing to me that Goodell has presided over a situation that has irreparably damaged the legacy and reputation of one of the greatest quarterbacks and ambassadors in the history of the game, relying on the anything-but-definitive Wells report in doing so, while failing to take any accountability from a league perspective for creating a swirling mess."

-Mike Reiss

I like "swirling mess." It conjures up the image of an overflowing toilet.

Everything is Forever

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

Unintended Consequences

With Roger Goodell naming himself as the fair and impartial arbiter for Tom Brady's appeal, my early optimism regarding Brady playing all 16 regular season games has shouted "Abracadabra!", thrown a flash bomb at its feet and vanished through a trap door, center stage.