The NFL Double Issue Edition!

 

The NFL season is more than halfway cooked and the more things change, the more the Patriots still look like the favorites to fuck up a lot of Super Bowl parties come January. I mean, does anybody else see the irony here? A league that prides itself on parity has the most prolonged dynasty in sports history.

Despite the specter of that long national football nightmare moving into yet another decade, it’s been a fairly entertaining NFL season to this point. The Cleveland Browns are winning . . on TMZ.  The Oakland Raiders are actually winning on the field. The Titans, Seahawks, Steelers, Colts, Panthers and Lions have been plucky. The Packers, Cowboys, Eagles and Bills have been lucky. And the Jets? Still suck.

If sports ain’t your thing, here’s an alphabetized list of teams complete with a cocktail party anecdote or observation for each. You’re uh . . welcome?

Arizona Cardinals- Investing in semiconductors is the same difference.
Atlanta Falcons- There is a Chick-fil-A in Mercedes Benz Stadium. Chicken Jesus doesn’t do business on Sundays, and this year? Neither do the Falcons.
Baltimore Ravens- Lamar Jackson is to quarterbacking what Jimi Hendrix was to acoustic guitars.
Buffalo Bills- The fan base is known as “Bills Mafia”. They guzzle beer, smash tables and have a guy named Pinto Ron who has a condiment fetish.

Because . . sports fans!

Carolina Panthers- The peeps in South Carolina take great pride in the fact that the Panthers play in North Carolina.
Chicago Bears- True story. Bears fans traveled to Nashville once, and drank the town dry.
Cincinnati Bengals- If Kandahar ever gets an NFL team, they’re perfect.
Cleveland Browns- The NFL version of Apple TV’s “Morning Show”- flashy, big name cast with little payoff.
Dallas Cowboys- Sugar Daddy Jerry Jones, built them a $1.2 billion dollar crib (Arlington taxpayers forked over $325 million). The Boys have a grand total of three playoff wins there since 2009. Only Congress offers up a weaker bang for the buck.
Denver Broncos- Unless you live in Colorado, the Denver Broncos will never come up in casual conversation. If you live in Colorado, just use lots of four letter words.
Detroit Lions- Motown legend Marvin Gaye once tried out for the team.
Green Bay Packers- They are the only publicly owned franchise in the league.
Houston Texans- They became only the second expansion team ever to win their first game when they defeated the Cowboys in September of 2002. It remains the high point.
Indianapolis Colts- In 1983, the franchise packed their shit on Mayflower vans and left Baltimore in the middle of the night. It doesn’t get any more Paul Simon than that.

Jacksonville Jaguars- Like the car, they’re expensive and rarely worth it.
Kansas City Chiefs- They have more offensive weapons than the US Army and a weaker defense than the French Army.
Los Angeles Chargers- Most peeps don’t realize they left San Diego. And most of those peeps live in Los Angeles.
Los Angeles Rams- Warren Beatty remains the coolest player to ever don a Rams uniform. And I know it was a movie, but it still counts.
Miami Dolphins- They’re not the worst team in football.
Minnesota Vikings- Unless you live in Minnesota, the Vikings will never come up in casual conversation. If you live in Minnesota, just bring the sausages, cheese curds and beer. 
New England Patriots- Before the Russians started rigging elections, they re-calibrated a middling football coach named Belichick and created a cyborg named Brady. The idea was to create a hatred of the red, white and blue. Those Russians are crafty.
New Orleans Saints- Charlton Heston starred as an aging Saints player in the film Number One. 
New York Giants- Jimmy Hoffa wouldn’t be caught dead in the Giants end zone.
New York Jets- Haven’t appeared in a Super Bowl since Joe Namath was wearing pantyhose on purpose.
Oakland Raiders- Will relocate to Las Vegas next year . .  move back to Oakland in 2030 . . relocate to Germany in 2035 . . . move back to Oakland in 2042 . . . relocate to Mars in 2050!
Philadelphia Eagles- Their former digs- Veterans Stadium- housed jail cells. And if you ever attended a game there, you understand why.
Pittsburgh Steelers- They haven’t returned to the Super Bowl since Bane blew up their fictional stadium in Dark Knight Rises. Not a coincidence.
San Francisco Forty 49ers- Joe Montana was chosen with the 82nd pick of the 1979 NFL draft. It worked out alright.
Seattle Seahawks- They aren’t the first pro football team to go by the name Seahawks. That would have been the Miami Seahawks, who did their business back in the ’40s.
Tampa Bay Buccaneers- See my suggestions for Broncos and Vikings. After which, feel free to mix and match.
Tennessee Titans- The designers of their uniforms imagined Masters of the Universe having sex with Ross Department Store.
Washington Redskins- No team matches its locale so perfectly. They’re corrupt, inept and divisive as fuck. 

As for the NFL season, there’s still time for the resistance to thwart the Evil Empire. And if Sam Rothstein were to ask me for a top ten best bets to take down Darth Vader Inc., Imma go with these . . .

1- Ravens: They kicked the shit out of New England last week so they get the top spot.
2- Chiefs: They’ve got Patrick Mahomes.
3- Packers: They’ve got Aaron Rodgers.
4- Seahawks: They shouldn’t be doing what they’re doing, but they’re doing it anyway.
5- Texans: They’ve got Deshawn Watson.
6- Eagles: Because they kicked the shit out of New England in the Super Bowl . . what, five minutes ago? It seems like it. And I still love Carson Wentz, even if I think he’s got to step up big time.
7- Browns: There’s a better chance Drew Carey plays center for the Cavaliers and leads them to the playoffs, but hey . . this is a top ten and I need warm bodies.
8- Cowboys: Yes, I put them below the Browns because they piss me off and I’m not even a fan. All that talent and they can’t beat Kirk Fucking Cousins . . at home?
9- Raiders: Because Jon Gruden deserves some props from those clowns (me) who said he was a mistake. His Raiders play hard, they came together after the Antonio Brown debacle and they’re fun as hell to watch. And while I really don’t think they’ve got a chance to sustain over the rest of the season . . who wouldn’t want to see Gruden and the Raiders back in New England in January? Almost twenty years hence from the “Tuck Rule” game that began the Patriots dynasty.
10- Dolphins- Again, this is a top ten list and since I can only come up with a legitimately serious top fourish, why not Miami to put a cap on it? Because I believe they have as much a chance to win it all as the Vikings and Bills. And that might be none at all, but that just makes it equal. And I cannot and will not include the Saints on any list after how they carried on after the NFC title game last year. The same franchise that brought us Bounty Gate . . . railing on about a bad call? Nope.

Up until a couple weeks ago, Miami was destined to go down as the worst pro football team of all time. I even wrote about it, somewhat excitedly at that. Because I wasn’t so much interested in the ignominy of a possible 0-16 season, as in the idea that my team actually had a brain trust in place that wasn’t an oxymoron.

History is toast now that the Dolphins are on an actual winning streak. And maybe we blew our chance to score Joe Burrow in the draft- a kid who happens to be the latest QB du jour. And I don’t care right now, because all I know is that Brian Flores has a gutted roster playing as if it’s the Super Bowl. So let the Jets and Skins, the Bengals and maybe even the Falcons dog it out for the top spots in the draft. Because maybe my team has something they don’t have.

A plan.

 

 

 

 

 

The Audacity Of Nope

If you haven’t watched the Miami Dolphins play football this season, it’s perfectly understandable because well . . . . nobody has. Four games into the 2019 season, they’ve already been mathematically eliminated from postseason play. Their record stands at 0-4, which is bad. They made the plenty good but certainly not great Baltimore Ravens look like Joe Montana’s ring bearing 49ers teams, which is worse. And in their four losses, they’ve been outscored 163-26. Which is history’s way of saying “Are you fucking kidding me?”.

In case you were wondering, and I’m not sure why you would be wondering, but okay . . . the Dolphins point differential through the first four games of the season is the worst in NFL history. If you’re playing along at home, the league was born during the W administration, as in Woodrow. Wilson. Which means that when teams were playing football with cinder-blocks and no helmet whilst their head coaches pointed a gun at ’em for motivation, the worst team was still coming up bigger than these Fins.

So yeah, my boys are a lost cause on the level of a pair of Isotoners gifted to Johnny Cochrane. And you know what? That is plenty fine with me, because as Jimmy Stewart is my witness, lost causes really are the only ones worth fighting for in this world. And don’t take my word for it, here’s Jimmy to provide . . .

Alls I know is, my Dolphins are relevant for the first time since Dick Cheney’s twenty eighth heart attack (That would be 2008). It would be the last time a team from the AFC East not named the New England Patriots won the division. Since then, my team has gone through ten quarterbacks, six head coaches and a handful of uniform changes.

Fast forward to present day and the Dolphins are relevant again. Problem is, it’s in the same way a Trump tweet or Ebola is relevant. Because once the shit gets loosed into our cranium or bloodstream, all manner of zombie apocalypse prevails. And the Dolphins are fifty three dead men walking . . no, marching. Loudly. Right onto the four lane highway those horsemen from the law firm Pestilence, War, Famine and Death are busy crunching their radials on whilst blue-tooth deep in negotiations with God and Lucifer.

Pro football experts are shouting mighty daggers into the Dolphins organization for tanking a season so obviously. Welp, I guess these geniuses didn’t watch the final season of Game of Thrones. Because those fuckers had WAY more talent and money going on than the Dolphins do.

And yes, the results are uglier than Gordon Ramsey in traffic. But it’s not like it ain’t been done before. Once upon a time, teams like the Cubs and Astros gutted their roster and started from the bottom. And it paid off with titles in both instances. In basketball, the 76ers took half a decade off during “The Process” in order to compile high draft picks in the hopes of fielding a winning team and now they’re one of the favorites to win it all. And the Browns transformed losing into the kind of art form that would’ve inspired Andy Warhol to buy them. And while they ain’t won jack yet, their team is interesting as hell with a punchers chance to do some real damage this season.

Optically, the dynamic blows. Because to charge major league money to the fans whilst rolling out a minor league product is certainly not good business practice. Last week’s game at Hard Rock Stadium in Miami was played to a half empty stadium, which shocked the hell out of me because I was wondering what in the hell was wrong with the half that showed up.

So the Dolphins will take a hit- both in the sports columns and in their bottom line. And it’s the latter that will keep this tanking expedition from going on indefinitely, because billionaires like Stephen Ross ain’t made their money by mistake. I figure a year, maybe two of really putrid football will result in enough draft pick sustenance to build a solid foundation. And yes they have to hit on their picks, as well as be smart with the free agent acquisitions, but to my way of thinking, it’s a chance worth taking.

I’ll take breaking bad over plain old mediocre every day of the week and for sixty minutes every Sunday. Because over the last eight seasons, the Dolphins are 66-66 with exactly nothing to show for it. There is nothing worse than mediocrity, and that includes a possible 0-16 campaign.

I’m done with asshats like Jeff Ireland running things into the ground and then skipping town for greener pastures. I’m sick and tired of clowns like Jay Cutler receiving a ten million dollar retirement package to achieve absolutely nothing. And I absolutely cannot stand the country club atmosphere that has held sway over the organization since Dan Marino stopped throwing footballs in anger.

Several weeks ago, when it became clear that the Dolphins mission was to suck balls, several prominent Dolphins players got on the phone with their agents and told them they wanted out. And that’s when I realized something was very different about the current brain trust. Because instead of sweet talking these guys back with drinks at the Clevelander and a cushy bonus . . they traded them. The message was clear as day.

You’re in or you’re out. No more in the middle.

It’s uncomfortable sure, but that signals growth. Change. Difference. And I could kiss Brian Flores and Chris Grier for having the cojones to undertake a strategy that might end up costing them their jobs. I hope it doesn’t, because they’re good football men who give a damn and I want to see them hoisting some hardware for all the shit they’re gonna be put through.

If things work out, the Dolphins’s fortunes should start looking up right around the time Tom Brady and the Patriots are decommissioned by the Nuclear Regulatory Commission. And so I’m rooting for my lost cause of a football team . . to suck mightily. For now. Because I’m done with the middle. In an all or nothing NFL world, I’m willing to take the latter for now. Because it’s a chance, which is something we haven’t had since Bill Clinton was installing a strippers pole in the Oval Office. And if this tanking strategy doesn’t work, the Dolphins can always dial up Pat Riley, who’ll be cooling his heels in retirement down in the Keys by then. And so what if he doesn’t know a lick about football.

He’d be perfect.

It’s Deja Vu, All Over Again

Fucking Patriots.

They make me want to dabble in communism. They make me feel like the Brits were misunderstood. They make me want to subvert the steeple chase of a nut that Thomas Paine broke bread with once upon a time. The one that made babies with capitalism and stirred up tasty drinks in the form of monthly baby daddy payments to Uncle Sam’s house of rocket fuel.

This ain’t bitterness talking. It’s . . . wait for it . . . common sense.

How do we find ourselves here for the third time in five years? Because the Patriots are more buttoned up than Luca Brasi on a Smith and Wesson bender. While rival clubs engage in trade demands, holdouts and the kind of drama that would make Meryl Streep get all hot and bothered, the Patriots simply are. They are not exciting like the Chiefs, they do not possess the soap opera twists and turns of the Steelers and they are nowhere near as pretty as the Rams. All they’re good at is winning the last game of the year. And to that end, they are really, really good.

I’ll take Marco’s loose thoughts for a dollar, Alex . . .

• Tony Romo is a maestro when it comes to calling a football game. And you know why that is? Because the dude is unpretentious, that’s why. He refuses to chime and dime on the dilly of the current template. Where “running north to south” and “going vertical” are downhill slang terms used by the so called experts who feel the need to justify the Armani. Until they’re cut loose for being nickels on a dollar’s worth of investment. Romo is different. He’s bright, he’s real, he’s effusive and he knows what is going down. On a Buffalo Springfield level of expertise.
• Sean McVay didn’t lose his smarts overnight. But its funny how a dude twice his age kicked his ass in the biggest game of the year. Convincingly. Will rival executives have an “oh shit!” moment as a result? Because there were a lot of dudes hired because they worked under McVay or they were FB friends with McVay or they rode an elevator with him once. Moral of the story? Winning organizations act. Everyone else reacts.
• My silver lining in Sunday night’s shit show was Brian Flores, the brand new head coach of the Miami Dolphins. His defense looked like the ’85 Bears. Now, he goes from a team that does its business the right way to the South Beach Social Club. I believe he’s up for the challenge, but time will tell.
• Someone please tell Adam Levine that showing your nipples ain’t worth the price of admission unless you’re Janet Jackson.
• Price of admission is Gladys Knight. She is velvet to the senses when her syllables take flight. I remember seeing her in Vegas and marveling at how she turned every single song into Friday night.
• Remember back when everybody was bemoaning the lack of defense after that 54-51 game the Rams and Chiefs played earlier in the year? Peeps insisted the game had morphed into the NBA. Welp, the Vegas books put the over under for total points scored in the Super Bowl at 56 points . . to which these offensive juggernauts answered with 16 points. I guess defense still matters, after all.
• Tom Brady looked like Mark Sanchez for most of that game. But for a couple passes in the fourth quarter that were bread basket perfect. Some players, such as Jared Goff, find it damn near impossible to face up to the big moment. Brady lives for it.
• I dunno if the Saints would have been able to fare any better than the Rams against that suddenly tenacious Patriots defense. But I do know they could have done better than three points. Hell, the Dolphins could have done better than three points.
• It’s pretty sad when, up until the fourth quarter the highlight of the game was a punt. I believe it was a record setting one, but I forget and you know why? Because it’s a punt . . .
• It almost looked as if the Patriots D knew what was coming before the Rams snapped the ball. Which, if you’re a follower of the NFL, is always going to make you wonder, given the organization’s rap sheet.
• Bravo to the Swiss Army Knife known as Julian Edelman for being the MVP not named Brady. Edleman missed the first four games of the season due to a PED suspension. If this were baseball it would have been a major story but in football, it’s an accepted fact.

And my one final thought on the national nightmare that is the New England Patriots.

They’re gonna have to be taken out the way Luca Brasi was taken out. By a band of young turks that wield knives on a doctorate level of Dante. The end of this reign must be certain, swift and surgical. And make no mistake, they will not surrender until the throne is taken from their cold dead hands. The team that slays this dragon is gonna have to do what the Patriots coaches are doing right now, as we speak.

Start planning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Roman Numerals Gone Wild!

The Chicago Bears will take on the New England Patriots in Atlanta tonight in the . . . oh shit, I’m sorry. I was thinking ahead to next year’s Super Bowl, my bad! This year it’s the Rams, next year the Bears and after that the Federal Regulatory Commission will force Bob Kraft to sell Tom Brady to science, with the rest of the team being sold for parts. Bill Belichick will be extradited to Gondor.

Lots has changed since the last time the Rams and Patriots met in the Super Bowl seventeen years ago. In Super Bowl 36, the St Louis Rams were heavy favorites, had the MVP quarterback and were going for their second title in three seasons. The Patriots had gotten to the big game on a fluke play, their head coach’s job security had been called into question a year prior, and their quarterback was a skinny backup named Brady who scored the starting job after starter Drew (Wally Pipp) Bledsoe went down with an injury.

Fast forward to now, and the Patriots are Team Google while the Rams are back in Los Angeles, even if most Angelenos are probably unaware of this fact. New England is the Vegas pick while the Rams are the new darlings of the dance. And the only reason I’m excited is because we’re gonna be chowing down on Jimmie John’s.

We’ll have a few things to say about those chowdah head fans who ain’t coming to Atlanta, seeing as how they’ve done it every other year for two and a half decades. And we’ll have a few more things to say about the Los Angeles Rams being a misnomer for displaced Lakers fans who got priced out of the Staples Center when LeBron hit town.

Some relatively true facts about the big game ? Why the hell not . . .

1- The Super Bowl was named after a bouncy ball.
2- The Detroit Lions are banned from Super Bowl competition as a result of their proximity to Canada.
3- Tickets to the first Super Bowl between the Green Bay Packers and Oakland Raiders went for $12. The price of a Super Bowl LIII game program goes for $18.
4- The Patriots pushed to seal records proving Tom Brady was a stonemason in medieval times, which would make him 1,543 years old. If the documents were to be released, New England’s titles would be vacated since vampires are only permitted to work for the league office.
5- After Miami won Super Bowl VII, Coach Don Shula’s watch was stolen by a fan who shook his hand on the field.
6- Even though Chik-fil-A has a restaurant inside Mercedes Benz Stadium, they won’t be open today on account of that other holy day.
7- Seventeen million people will call in sick tomorrow. No word yet as to whether the Trump administration will declare a national emergency.
8- Janet Jackson contemplated putting her famous Super Bowl halftime nipple up for auction at Sotheby’s before deciding against it. Her business manager explained that Jackson wished to hold onto her titular rights.
9- It is estimated that more than thirty percent of the ‘fans’ in attendance at this year’s game will write it off as a corporate expense.
10- More than two billion wings will be consumed during the Super Bowl. And this ain’t even mentioning the fact that the game essentially serves as Black Friday for pizzerias.

Super Bowl Sunday is the one day of the year when Americans can eat whatever the fuck they want, drink copious amounts of alcohol and behave like children. Check that, it’s the one day of the year when all that shit is celebrated. Some peeps even want to petition to make the Monday after the Super Bowl a national holiday. The petition drive never gets very far on account of the fact most of these peeps are alcoholics or degenerate gamblers. In most instances, both.

I don’t have a legit rooting interest seeing as how my Dolphins are conscientious objectors when it comes to the last game of the year. The last time I had a legit rooting interest in the Super Bowl, Budweiser was my beer of choice and I was going to marry my high school sweetheart(s).

Even my cat, Mr Speaker, is at a loss when it comes to the outcome of this year’s game. After correctly predicting the last two champions, we couldn’t get him to pick a winner this time around. Our voting system consists of post it notes and treats, but this year, he wasn’t having it. My daughter says it’s because he thought the system was rigged.

And he’s not even from New Orleans.

BREAKING NEWS . . . . After an impasse last night in which Mr Speaker refused to cast his vote, a special session was convened early this morning. The results of this ‘runoff’ have the Rams defeating the Patriots. 

635 Reasons to Love Cleveland

Remember that girlfriend you had in high school who was constantly pulling you around by the leash? She’d break your heart one week only to pick up all the pieces inside the next? And every time you thought you’d finally learned your lesson, every time you’d talked yourself into never going back to her, she would make the scene, flip your script and play you for the fool again?

The Miami Dolphins are that high school girlfriend.

They are my harmful chemical of a romance gone full metal jacket. They are my cholera on cleats, my seasick Orion . . . my Orwellian O’Brien. When I ask for ‘mo they give me Poe. They promise me the world, and they give me Hoboken.

I’m not being a dick about this. I realize there are other fan bases that have it much worse than me. Like Beliebers, and QVC speed dialers . . . and oh yes, those peeps who insist on seeing Kelly Ripa live even though it’s a known fact she is the Goddess of the undead.

As far as sports goes? There ain’t no team in any professional sport that has done less with more than my Dolphins. They have money, J. Lo and an area code that can sell mango flavored snow cones in the middle of winter. Imagine the Dolphins were Vera Farmiga with the mind of Stephen Hawking and the bank account of Bill Gates. And then imagine, if you will, that this perfect specimen plays the cymbals in a Winger cover band.

Since the aughts of this millennium, Miami has proven less potent than an octogenarian who’s all outta penis pills. And never mind they’re 2-0 to start this season, and never mind I picked ’em to make the postseason, and never mind they play the Raiders. At home. My Dolphins are still going to find a way to fuck up this football equivalent of a glass of water.

So what?

The Cleveland Browns won a football game Thursday night! For the first time since Christmas Eve . . . of 2016. Basically, almost two calendar years have passed since Cleveland had something to boast about that didn’t rhyme with LeBron James.

Cleveland’s Browns are bringing the fun; something my Dolphins have been lacking ever since Dan Marino stopped pitching masterpieces. In a league where men behave like crybabies, dynasties become TMZ curiosities and marginal talents like Isaiah Crowell of the Jets choreograph embarrassing touchdown celebrations in losses, and then are not man enough to own up to their stupidity, the Browns are content with just playing football.

They’ve got a young brash quarterback with balls of steel, who seems to really dig the big moment. And in spite of his bad boy past, Baker Mayfield has thus far handled the dupes in the media with more aplomb than veterans such as Antonio Brown could dream of. In a post game interview on ESPN, Baker laughed off Scott Van Pelt’s suggestion that the quarterback get himself some free beer and party hardy.

It didn’t occur to the interviewer to pump his frat boy brakes, in spite of the fact the Browns have been Team Rehab (See Johnny Manziel and Josh Gordon) over the last few years. And that’s because Van Pelt is a tone deaf goof, as are too many of his peers at the four letter. It was obvious that the kid out of Oklahoma was the adult in the room inside that moment.

So this Baker Mayfield kid’s got poise, and his team has ups. And in a best case scenario, the Browns use this year to get somewhere much better than middle of the road. That’s where the Dolphins have resided for the last couple decades, and it’s no fun. At all.

Maybe there will come a day when the Browns will behave like most of the other teams out there; comprised of divas and crybabies whose intrigue has nothing to do with football. But for right now, the Browns are more satisfying than free beer.

Drink up, Cleveland.

 

 

 

Mostly Fearless NFL Predictions!

I decided not to play fantasy football this season, because I don’t feel like cursing players I don’t even know. Besides, I finished first in my league last year and I’m fucking tired, yanno? You might wonder why I wouldn’t want to defend my title, and to that I answer with this. By not playing, I am defending my title.

Anyways, I have my annual NFL predictions at the ready. I’m not sure if I even do this annually, but it sounds more official that way. As a public service, I must add that I’m not a professional and as such, you shouldn’t wager based on my predictions. Cut out the middleman and send the money right to me, because you obviously have no clue how to manage shit.

Enjoy!

A New England Patriots Super Bowl appearance is akin to a Spider-Man reboot. They show up just about every year. Tom Brady didn’t lose the Super Bowl last year, his coach did. The Man Named 12 did everything he could, scorching the Eagles D for half a thousand yards after which he had consolation sex with Giselle. He should definitely consider a Presidential run, seeing as how even when he loses . . he wins. Rumor has it that one day Tom Brady will lose his superpowers and return to his Fortress of Solitude. Until such time, Team Apple Stock is an odds on favorite to get back to the big game. I ain’t buying it . . not this year. Because this year, it’s gonna be . . .

The San Diego Los Angeles Chargers. Unlike the Patriots, the Chargers always find new and exciting ways to fuck things up. They are the Hilary Clinton of the NFL playoffs. Too soon? Anyways, this is the year they break through and make it to the big game. Which doesn’t make up for the fact they switched out their sweet crib in San Diego so they could be just another team in LA . . . but hey, making it to the Super Bowl is good too. And the crown they’re looking to grab belongs to . . .

The Philadelphia Eagles. Who used to find new and exciting ways to fuck things up, until last year when they actually won it . . with zero help from the Russians at that. After which the Eagles took to chirping about how they were a fun bunch compared to Tom Brady and the Matrix. Which conveniently ignored the fact that the Patriots have booked passage with the last week of the season eight times in the last seventeen years. The Eagles should be mindful of the fact that uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. They’re still gonna be plenty good, and they’re still gonna come close, but in the end, they’re gonna lose in the NFC title game to the . . .

Dallas Cowboys. Back in the day, the ‘Boys used to be hated the same way the Patriots are hated now. This was during a simpler time known as the Clintonian Era. Things just ain’t the same any longer. Soul has been replaced with algorithm and the whole world is ordering out. Well, the Cowboys are gonna steal all that gritty, seething fan hatred back from the Patriots this year and make it all the way to the big game.

As for my predicted score in Super Bowl LIII, Imma have to come back to that after my predictions blow up and the actual participants make themselves known next January.

As for the rest of my NFL predictions . . .

• The Browns will win more games than they did last year.
• Jacksonville will not make the playoffs. My accountant can throw better than their quarterback, and that ‘vaunted’ defense? It gave up more points last postseason than a tricked out pinball machine. And ESPN loves them, which means this is more about style than substance.
• The NFL will continue to fuck up the meaning of a catch, a peaceful protest and a legal hit.
• Baker Mayfield will be entertaining, Josh Allen will be mostly awful and Josh Rosen will have the best season of all the rookie QB’s.
• Deshaun Watson will finish behind Aaron Rodgers and Ezekiel Elliott for MVP honors. Watson is style and substance, and he’s coming fast.
• The Miami Dolphins will exceed expectations. Kenny Stills (receiving) and Kenyan Drake (rushing) will surpass 1,000 yards. Ryan Tannehill will have a breakout season and Minkah Fitzpatrick will shine. And . . . there’s no punchline. Yet.
• The Bucs and Bills will vie for the number one pick in the 2019 NFL Draft.
• The Vikings, Falcons, Saints, Panthers, Steelers, Chiefs and Rams will join forces in the NFL’s version of Infinity War. Didn’t they learn anything from the movie?
• To the peeps who say the NFL’s bottom line was hurt by the anthem protests, I give you Jon Gruden. He hasn’t coached in ten years . . his lone Super Bowl win was with another coach’s players . . sixteen years ago . . which happened to be his last playoff win as well. That dude scored a 100 million dollar contract with the Raiders.
• And oh yeah . . Gruden will be a disaster in his coaching comeback. I predict he’ll be off the sidelines within three years, after which he’ll move upstairs. He’ll become the NFL version of Sam “Ace” Rothstein, with revolving titles as Vegas boss.

On a completely related note, I wasn’t aware last night was the season opener until I received a text from a friend informing me the Falcons were beating the Eagles early on. Thursday night football is the worst idea since the Captain of the Titanic tried making a hairpin turn around an iceberg. NFL players should take a knee in protest to these midweek debacles.

This shit never would’ve happened if Burt Reynolds had been commissioner. Rest in peace, Bandit.

 

Bread and Circuses

I get it.

The ongoing Urban Meyer investigation is nothing more than a PR campaign. When Ohio State officials issued a statement in which they promised a decision within “fourteen days”, it meant they plan on bringing him back, unless more damning evidence comes out before then.

So of course, a hundred or so clueless individuals showed up for a rally in support of Coach Meyer last Monday. And so I composed a letter to them. To the vast majority of Ohio State peeps who get it, please understand that I bear no ill will to you, your school or your sports programs. This is for the small minority of fools whose priorities should be questioned, not simply by yours truly, but by anyone who knows them.

Dear Ralliers,

I’m writing to you on behalf of all the battered women out there who have more important things to do than post a blog. Important things, like survive. They don’t have time to ask Urban Meyer why he would aid and abet a known abuser over all these years. They don’t have time to ask why you thought it was a good idea to hold a rally for someone like Urban Meyer.

Thing is, you were probably quick to slam Penn State. Michigan State too. And you were right on both counts, of course. Because the respective administrations of those two schools needed to be held accountable for horrific cover-ups. Problem is, your indignation seems to have been more about conference affiliation- The Lions and Spartans are Big Ten rivals- than about concern for the victims.

Don’t get me wrong, we weren’t expecting much from your small (thankfully) contingent. And yet, you managed to give us so much less anyway. Because wins and conference titles and playoff appearances are what matter most to you. Because you let us know that when you held a rally for a coach who is still employed because he can supply those things to your fan base.

If Urban Meyer was anything less than a great coach, he would’ve been gone by now. You would have been plenty fine with doing the right thing . . in that instance. But in this one, Meyer did wrong, and then he perpetuated that wrong by keeping an abuser on his payroll, and the only reason you’re okay with that is because of his 73-8 record.

What does it say about you . . that you would stand behind a bad guy like Meyer? That you would rally for his job when the facts demand that he be gone? What does it say about you that wins matter more than Courtney Smith’s well being? That wins matter more than the women who are being abused every single day? What does it say about you that, when you had a chance to do the right thing and demand that Meyer be fired immediately, you chose to hide behind his 73-8 record? What does it say about you, that you chose cult behavior over courage and compassion?

You should be ashamed of yourselves. But as that rally you held for Urban Meyer shows us all too well, you have no shame. Because the truth is, you might have been able to make a real difference in the interim. As your school waits it out in the hopes they won’t have to fire Meyer for his transgressions, you could have stayed neutral to the decision while still making a statement of hope and change. Because while an independent panel of investigators that includes three Ohio State trustees conducts its sham investigation, you could have issued a preemptive warning to Meyer’s second act, which seems more likely by the day. You could’ve put Meyer on notice.

You could have gotten together in support of all the women who are abused every single day. You could have gathered to remember all the women who have lost their lives to their abusers. And in so doing, you could have sent a message to this big name coach and his big deal program that by helping one abuser, they do an injustice to all those who are abused.

Because your cowardly rally comprised of weak minded individuals? It was the stuff of lemmings. You trashed journalists for uncovering the truth. You belittled a movement that is trying to move out of the dark ages. You defended a coach who hides behind bible study sessions and plausible denials. And why? You did so in the name of trophies.

I thought you should know that since you held your little rally on Monday? Twelve women have been murdered by their current or former male partners. And by the time this investigation is completed by that other Urban Meyer fan club? Thirty more women will have been murdered by their current or former male partners.

Your football coach is part of the problem, and so are you.

When Rocky Got Real

In honor of the Eagles Super Bowl win, I broke out my New Years resolution to make a totally new sammy. The rules were simple: It had to be out of this world tasty, super rich . . and it had to be something I wouldn’t mind treating myself to on lazy- non running- mornings now and then. Simply put, it doesn’t make my roster if I wouldn’t make it again.

This particular sammy scored a roster spot. And while it may not be my starting QB, that’s plenty fine. I mean, it worked out pretty well for Nick Foles . . .

Here’s the blueprint for my Winna Bagel: 

Plain bagel, toasted and lightly buttered
Lebanon Sweet bologna
Jalapeno cream cheese
Muenster cheese
Scrambled egg (whipped frothy with S&P and a little Half and Half)
Sriracha honey chicken
Bacon
Guacamole

I put the sweet bologna on first. Next up was my cheesy scrambled egg, which was gooey in the middle with the cream cheese and Muenster. It had some delectably crunchy cheese nibbles on the edges. I topped that with chicken, bacon and a ‘lil guacamole.

The first thing that hit me was the smoky flavor of the sweet bologna and next came the creamy wave of the scrambled egg. The sweet and spicy chicken played well with the bacon and they danced madly with the guac. Needless to say it was a title winning flavor.

As for the game. best Super Bowl I’ve ever seen.

The back and forth scoring, the trick plays and ballsy calls by Doug Pederson. The middle finger Tom Brady threw at Father Time as he shattered passing records. And Nick Foles, the dude who almost retired a couple years ago, matching Brady and then beating him when it mattered most.

My Top 5 Venti Vents:

5- Defense was either optional, or those squads just decided to get a head start on the off-season.

4- I did not watch the halftime show, because while I dig JT, I don’t dig all the hype that surrounds the event.

3- I have nothing against Chris Collinsworth, but he really annoyed me for some reason.

2- Instant replay was introduced as a way to correct egregious calls. Unfortunately, it has taken out the human element of a bang/bang play that should be left alone and in most cases it STILL gets shit wrong! Even with a million different camera angles.

1- Sense was made of the nonsensical when a football neophyte brought enlightenment to my Super Bowl party.

“If he catches the ball, what’s the problem?” She asked.

“Well, he has to make a football move or it’s not considered a catch,” I replied.

“Oh, so he can prove he’s playing football and not hockey?”

“Well, it’s not that simple,” I insisted.

“It IS simple. And why are they reviewing this catch?”

“To see whether or not he had possession of the ball,” I replied.

“It’s in his arms!! Hell, if it’s enough evidence to get you arrested, it should be enough evidence for a football game!”

Now, if a fan who only watches football on occasion can get it right . . what’s up with the league office?

Other than that . . .

This game was a microcosm of the Eagles season. To paraphrase Rocky Balboa, no matter how hard they got hit, this team just kept moving forward. And in so doing, they exorcised the demons of so many heartbreaking endings. And they settled up with a town whose love for its hometown team would be dangerous if it weren’t so fucking romantic.

Take all that, and add this. I think the team that never won a title before Sunday is going to go down as the team that brought down an empire. Because I think Bellichick is getting out of Dodge, and while Tom Brady will probably continue doing Tom Brady things, it’s gonna be different.

Personally, I think this title tops all the other sports droughts that came before it. The Eagles didn’t have the romance of a ‘curse’ the way the Cubs and Red Sox did. And while Cleveland and San Francisco can most definitely bring the passion and love, Philly is a whole ‘nother beast. Because no town can match the psychosis of a team and its city in this way. And that’s kind of what this marriage has always been, psychotic. Fanatical doesn’t quite describe what Eagles fans truly are.

No less an authority on winning than Giselle pointed out how Eagles fans have waited a million years to call themselves Super Bowl champions. It probably does feel that long for a fan base that didn’t have a dynasty to fall back on. But that’s okay, because if you asked them how it feels to finally get their one, they’d probably all say the same damn thing.

Worth it.

 

 

The New England Invitational Turns LII

I can’t believe it’s Super Sunday already. It feels like only yesterday that I was putting together my fantasy league team whilst under the illusion my Dolphins had a chance to see January . . . if only for sixty minutes.

The Patriots are making their annual trip, preparing to take on yet another bird. Last year’s Falcons replaced 2015’s Seahawks who have been unseated by this year’s Eagles. Soooo, Cardinals fans might want to book their Atlanta trip for next year’s Super Bowl before Patriots fans grab up all the best tickets.

The good news for Eagles fans is that Tom Brady will eventually succumb to Father Time. The bad news is, it ain’t happening soon enough. And if you happen to be one of those peeps who is suffering from Patriots fatigue, well . . .there’s always baseball!

A top 5.2 thoughts before I get to my Super prediction? Sure . . .

#1- Philadelphia Eagles wide receiver Alshon Jeffery said this: 

“Ain’t no ‘if,’ man. When we win on Sunday, ain’t no telling what we’re going to do,” Jeffery said. “But we’re probably going to celebrate, have some fun.”

New England quarterback Tom Brady thought this: 

Umm,Alshon? Don’t poke the bear.

2- The Eagles insist they are getting no respect. 

What I hear when the Eagles rail on about the lack of respect people are showing to a 13-3 Super Bowl team . . .

3- Justin Timberlake will perform at this year’s halftime show. It will be his first appearance since the infamous “Nipplegate” episode with Janet Jackson. 

What everyone watching will see as they watch this year’s halftime show. 

 

Okay, I just had to sneak that video in because it’s fucking hilarious. No kids, the correct answer is Nipples for a thousand, Alex! 

4- The Eagles have a bevy of big deal fans rooting them on at this year’s game. From the Angels Mike Trout to actor Bradley Cooper. Ya got Will Smith, Carl Lewis, Kevin Bacon, Sylvester Stallone, Tina Fey, Tara Reid, Pink, Bob Saget, Kevin Hart, Carrot Top, Dr Oz, Jake Tapper, Questlove, Sofia Vergara, Charles Barkley and former Vice President Joe Biden. 

The Patriots have Giselle. 

Advantage Patriots. 

5- Vegas books reported a multi-million dollar wager was laid on the underdog Eagles. This elicited a conversation with a pal of mine that went something like this.

Okay . . . that was verbatim. 

As far as my .2 thought on today’s game? I won’t be watching the halftime show unless Janet Jackson shows up. And since that doesn’t seem likely, Imma go ahead and tell ‘yall what’s going to happen in Super LII, so there really is no point in even watching . . .

In the first half, absolutely nothing happens.

The halftime show proves to be a nipple free affair, but NBC puts a thirty minute delay in place just in case. The time lapse plays havoc on television viewers, and Fox News erroneously calls the game for the Patriots as a result. The Russians deny any involvement in the snafu.

The third quarter is when things really start cooking. Nick Foles pulls the Statue of Liberty play on the Pats and Jay Ajayi takes it eighty yards to the house to open the scoring. From there, the Eagles score thirty five unanswered points. They head to the fourth quarter with a 38-3 lead. In spite of this, Pats coach Bill Belichick is overheard saying “We have ’em right where we want ’em!”

In the fourth quarter, the Patriots stage a historic comeback (yep, again) and tie the score at 45 with just under two minutes to go. Tom Brady tosses six touchdown passes, including a Hail Mary to himself. Rob Gronkowski leaves the game with concussion symptoms after Brady slaps his helmet with his 283 diamond Super Bowl ring during a touchdown celebration.

Nick Foles and the Eagles take over at their own five yard line with a minute and a half remaining. A false start by Philadelphia moves them back to the goal line and three incomplete passes later, they are staring down the barrel of a fourth down and forever. Coach Doug Pederson sticks to the script that got him here by deciding to go for it. It seems that only a miracle can save the Eagles now. Or gravity . . .

On fourth down, Foles drops back into the end zone and flings the ball straight up into the air. Upon returning to earth, the ball is deflected by several players before falling into the arms of Eagles wide receiver Nelson Agholor, who picks up the first down by half a yard. The play is dubbed “The Isaac Newton” and it revs the green engine as Philadelphia marches down the field and with twelve seconds left, the Eagles have a first and goal at the Patriots nine yard line, Pederson inexplicably decides to leave his field goal kicker on the sidelines rather than have him attempt the Super Bowl winning field goal. As he would later explain, “I don’t trust Jake Elliot unless it’s from fifty yards out,”.

After a play action pass sails out of bounds, there’s time for one more play into the end zone. Against a heavy New England pass rush, Nick Foles finds Zach Ertz for what appears to be the game winning touchdown with one second left. But referees convene and the play comes under review to determine if Ertz did in fact make the catch.

Announcers Al Michaels and Chris Collinsworth debate what constitutes a catch.

Michaels: It’s when the catch is conceived! 

Collinsworth: No! It’s when the football is physically visible! 

Sideline reporter Michele Tafoya suggests that if the NFL cannot decide what constitutes a catch, the Supreme Court should step in. She then uses several replays that show Ertz juggling the football, proving that he did not make the catch. Her argument is eerily reminiscent of the JFK investigation.

Tafoya: As you can see Ertz enter the turn, the ball snaps back . . and to the left. See it guys? Back . . and to the left. Back . . and to the left . . Back . . and to the left. 

The instant replay review drags on for more than an hour, allowing NBC to air two episodes of Will and Grace. Despite the sitcom’s popularity, viewership plummets since there’s no Tom Brady to root/hate on. In response to the deflated numbers, Commissioner Goodell tells Brady not to leave town.

When they finally come to a conclusion, Head Referee Gene Steratore tweets out their decision before making the announcement . . . Touchdown! The Eagles celebrate for several minutes, drawing one penalty another until Coach Pederson feels comfortable enough to let his placekicker attempt a sixty yard extra point, which he nails as time expires.

Final Score: Eagles 52- Patriots 45

The front page headlines of the Philadelphia Inquirer say it all. Ertz So Good! Bud Light follows through on its promise to buy beer for the entire city of Philadelphia, and the City of Brotherly Love is transformed into a real life version of The Purge. After the game, Tom Brady announces his retirement and signs with the Cleveland Browns. Coach Bill Belichick decides to follow his dream and become a fashion designer. Patriots owner Bob Kraft begins drawing up plans to turn Gillette Stadium into a strip mall.

As for the champs, Nick Foles signs on with Fox/Paramount to star in the Napoleon Dynamite reboot. Fletcher Cox apologizes for his team’s poor defensive performance by donating his winner’s share to the charitable organization Free Melania, and Carson Wentz sues a Nevada town and wins the rights to “Carson City”, after which he guarantees the Eagles will repeat as champions.

The NFL scores record ratings despite all those peeps who insist they’re boycotting the sport forever. Commissioner Goodell announces he will step down at the end of his current contract to become the wealthiest Buddhist monk, ever. Giselle Bundchen lambastes the NFL as nothing more than  “a primitive blood sport that thrives on violence and crooked decision makers,” before revealing that she is buying the Miami Dolphins because “they have beautiful uniforms and they don’t hit anyone,”.

Richard Branson wins the rights to host Super Bowl 60 on the moon, and construction begins on a 100,000 seat bio-dome. When a reporter criticizes the locale by asking where fans will spend the weekend leading up to the big game, Branson snarkily replies.

“Uranus.”

 

 

Groundhog Day Meets Rocky Balboa

We have seen this movie before.

The one where the Patriots win twelve plus games, score a couple playoff wins in Foxboro and end up in the Super Bowl amid all the chatter about how they cheat to win and how they get all the calls. There are few things more certain than death, taxes . . and the Patriots being in the Super Bowl. This is Groundhog Day in cleats.

And once the Patriots get to the Super Bowl, well . . . you know. They vanquished the ‘Greatest Show on Turf’ back in 2002 when they came from behind to beat the Kurt Warner led St. Louis Rams with a field goal as time expired. They were the ‘darlings’ of the league that year, the charming underdogs with spunk and a pretty boy quarterback who defied all the odds and took down the Goliath. Man, how things have changed.

Since then, the Patriots have been more consistent than Apple stock. Their laundry list of Super Bowl victims includes the Panthers, Seahawks, Eagles and Falcons. On that last count, the Patriots actually had us believing their remarkable run was finally over by spotting Atlanta a twenty five point lead before storming back to win, again.

This time around, they get a rematch thirteen years in the making. They beat Andy Reid’s Eagles in 2004 to cap off their second consecutive title and third in four years. And if they win it again this time around, it will be their second consecutive title and . . you guessed it . . their third in four years. Attention Patriots fans, please pick up the white courtesy phone, Bill Murray is calling.

There has never been anything like this Patriots run in sports. Not over this length of time and not with this degree of consistency there hasn’t. Tom Brady went a decade between world championships before beating Seattle a few years back. Which is the kind of story line that would be dismissed out of hand if you tried peddling it in Hollywood. Seventeen years later, the Patriots are still doing this. Tom Brady is still bringing his team from behind in January’s biggest moments. Bill Belichick is still making halftime adjustments that prove he might be the best there has ever been. New England is still the sports center of the universe.

The Philadelphia Eagles aren’t just going up against an MVP candidate quarterback and a battle tested coach who knows what to do with two weeks prep time. They are not just going up against a team that defies age and injuries and all this nonsense talk about mutinies inside the Patriots clubhouse. The Eagles are going up against seventeen years, five Super Bowl titles and a history unlike any the league has ever witnessed. They are going up against Jordan and Jeter, Gretzky and a young Mike Tyson. They are going up the Roman Empire, whose days are dwindling but still mighty. They are going up against a team that took the Jaguars best shot before reminding them that the game isn’t over after three quarters.

Here’s the thing. The Eagles don’t care a wit about that history. They’re too young to remember Gretzky and Jordan or the best of Derek Jeter. And the only thing they know about Mike Tyson is that his championship reign came to an end when someone finally punched him in the mouth.

Really, the only history the Eagles are going to focus on as far as New England is concerned are the two Super Bowl titles the Patriots didn’t collect. And isn’t it ironic that the Eagles are going to be borrowing a page from their long time rivals- the New York Giants- who have proven to be New England’s kryptonite not once but twice? And the game plan is really quite simple. Punch them in the mouth.

This is the tenth anniversary of that first Giants/Patriots clash, when Eli Manning and Tom Coughlin and a ridiculous helmet catch by David Tyree all conspired to ruin the Patriots perfect season. I wrote back then that the Patriots owned the worst 18-1 record in the history of the league. And as if that wasn’t enough, the Giants came back four years later, and with the Patriots hell bent on revenge, they beat them again.

The Eagles go into Minnesota with every intention of following that blueprint. They’ll be carrying a chip on their shoulder and the talent to give us a different ending. They’ve navigated injuries of their own. They lost their MVP candidate Carson Wentz during their division clinching game. They lost their all world left tackle Jason Peter and middle linebacker Jordan Hicks in the same game! And somehow, someway, they still made it to Minnesota.

They came to the Super Bowl not to praise New England, but to bury them. And yeah, we’ve heard this kind of thing before and we’ve seen how things usually turn out. And I expect that the Patriots are probably going to find a way to win, again. Because as a Dolphins fan, I’ve been conditioned to do so.

But this is a heavyweight title rematch, and so there’s that punchers chance thing to consider. We have the brash and cocky reigning champion going up against a brawler from Philadelphia. I’m pretty sure the Eagles would be just fine with the Rocky Balboa comparisons.

Considering what happened in the rematch.