Fitting and Proper To Die for the Commissioner?

Featured imageGoodell Receives Bad News

DATELINE: Horse Manure Spread Thick

He who laughs last, etc.

Tom Brady could be said to have a smirk, or is that a sneer?

It depends on how he perceives Roger Goodell, who now takes on the role of the biggest loser since fat people went on television as a diet incentive.

No one would blame Brady from beaming ear to ear. His smile should be as broad as the cut on Goodell’s throat—from ear to ear.

Yes, Judge Berman pretty much let the Commissioner become his own horse’s head. The Godfather of Football has awakened to find his prize stallion a moist parcel under the silk sheets.

There’s no telling how those bitter owners will take the humiliation. Apparently in America, money can’t buy a judge you try to handpick to hear your case.

Billionaires have been given a severe setback. Millionaire players have shown that they are still the “average Joe,” when it comes to beating the system.

Tom Brady has won many a game in the fourth quarter, but no victory can be as sweet as defrocking the man who pretended he was the anti-Pope.

Goodell the First and Last may be the new yardstick for a horse’s rear end. We could argue that the horse’s head in his bed with him puts both pieces of the horse together again.

Some cynics want Goodell to appeal the case and file for an injunction to punish Brady—but that would look worse than sour grapes. It would be shooting the horse in the head when he has thrown a shoe and pulled a muscle.

In this case the Charley horse is between Goodell’s ears.

Running Out the Deflate-gate String

DATELINE: HUMOR

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Judge Richard Berman issued a notification that he won’t be anticipating a decision on Deflate-gate for 72 hours.

For those with math problems, we can translate that to mean roughly three days—if you live by the 24-hour clock.

We have nightmare images of Jack Benny blowing the horn at midnight to resolve this mad NFL tempest in a teapot.

We see the Twilight Zone clock taking us to another dimension, heading out past that signpost up ahead. We just crossed over into the Goodell Zone.

The sands of the hourglass are now trickling at an alarming rate.

72 hours? That’s three more last meals for Tom Brady.

Our atomic clock is ticking away, but string theory seems to be tugging on the footballs being passed around during preseason.

Time and tide wait for no man, least of Roger Goodell. Those 72 hours will seem an eternity except to those who pay lawyer’s a retainer out of a fund supplied by billionaire friends.

For those pacing the floor in their small federal prison cells, this is a tight squeeze awaiting reprieve for a man who has committed no crime before his time.

It’s hickory dickory dock as Goodell runs up the clock.

We cannot fathom the length of 72 when it is measured on the time/space continuum. Is there a portal or black hole we can use to reach the destination more efficaciously?

In dog years, this would be the flick of a wrist or the batting of an eye. Alas, we are mere mortals—and the waiting is aging us.

The End is Near, Deflate-gaters & Deflate-haters

DATELINE: The Bell Tolls

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We are at the deathbed of Deflate-gate and praying for a peaceful end. We have seen extreme unction anointed daily on the foreheads of deflated egos. We have heard the hammering of nails into coffins. But nothing prepared us for the bubble-headed death knell of footballs “per square inch.”

And we are not under ground yet, but remain grounded. As far as we can report, we have thrown the yellow flag at the NFL for intentional grounding of Tom Brady.

Judge Richard Berman has called upon the Grim Reaper to visit the case and help him render an opinion.

Some experts claim that this is truly an end because no appeal court will hear the case after the highly respected and Solomon-like judge makes his pronouncement. Half a football is better than none. Cutting the pigskin in half makes for a half-baked game. Choose your poison.

We don’t hear a death rattle yet, but many others have expressed their wishful thinking on the matter.

For two hundred days and two hundred pages, we have put forth chuckle after chuckle, moan after moan, and sigh after sigh. Can it be we are now all done or just John Donne? Are blogs ever really dead? Or do they live on in the Internet for eternity? Do you hear that church bell tolling for thee?

We have felt like the man in the waiting room for the dentist’s call. There is seldom a fatality from a scraping of plaque off the enamel. It is simply excruciating. And Tom Brady’s white teeth will smile at us just as they always have after all is done.

That sound in the distance is the bell tolling for Deflate-gate. And it reminds us we are due for another six-month checkup at the dentist.

Lurching Forward: Tom Brady in Pasty Pastel

DATELINE: Art for Art’s Sake for Heaven’s Sake

Les Miserables or Tom in Court

Only in the world Featured imageof Roger Goodell do two wrongs make a right, or perhaps at the Famous Artists School.  The federal court artist that has drawn the short straw for two hearings has put a bullseye around Tom Brady for a second time.

Jane Rosenberg needs a new prescription for her eyeglasses. She did see Tom wink and wave at her. Maybe he needs glasses. The latest Tom smacks of Les Miserables.

Court artiste had a second chance to do a quickie with Tom Brady at the third Deflate-gate hearing. Over the weekend, she practiced and did a dimpled version of Tom that might pass a quick look at midnight in the dark.

Today she claimed that hearing was far too short, a mere five minutes, not giving her time enough to digest the good looks of Tom. She admitted she has trouble with pretty.

A critical eye on the latest Brady rendition is enough to convince us that subjective art tells us more about the artist than the subject she paints.

Here, Tom has improved from Laughton’s Quasimodo and now looks merely like the Addams Family butler, Lurch.

Maybe Ms Rosenberg has a Thing for ugly.

If she wants to design Halloween parties, she may be just the bat out of hell to do it. Her intermediate Tom looked like an outtake of Spartacus with Kirk Douglas.

If we are lucky, Jane Rosenberg will never again have to face an easel and Tom Brady. We suspect her true medium is mud.

There was no settlement in the court case, and the art work has remained unsettling.

Tom Brady as Spartacus

DATELINE: HUMOR

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Is anyone surprised at the result when an immoveable object meets an irresistible force?  In other words, Tom Brady crashed headlong into the NFL—and nothing happened.

Brady and Goodell showed up an hour early for the hearing. And after fifteen minutes with the judge, the hearing ended—and nothing happened.

You could almost hear Judge Richard Berman being asked to sing a refrain from “Che Sera Sera.”   Yep, whatever will be will be.

The thud was the sounds of the chips falling where they may.

If there was any satisfaction from the hearing, it came from beleaguered artist Jane Rosenberg who spent the past few weeks honing her portrait of Tom Brady.

Yes, this version was done before Tom showed up at federal court today. Some believe that Rosenberg had done her penance and deserved a break.

Her latest version of Brady looked somewhat more akin to his natural appearance—if he were playing Spartacus in the mode of Kirk Douglas.

Spartacus was the first sports hero to go into politics—and he started a trend that Tom Brady likely will follow. Spartacus had his Marcus Crassus, dogging him to death, and Tom has the dog-earred Roger Goodell.

You might expect Kirk Douglas and Larry Olivier to play the originals in Spartacus. Nowadays you are far more likely to have Zac Efron play Brady and Charlie Sheen acting out as Goodell, though we would prefer Chace Crawford and Don Johnson.

Another Court Date for Tom & Roger, Artists Beware

DATELINE: HUMOR

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The principal has called the principals to his office one more time.

Since no side has any shame, they will be there in their best duds. The attorneys are making enough money to cover their giggles in straight-arrow dedication and blue serge suits.

In a sport where clear winners usually emerge weekly, and then are celebrated at season’s end, you have the unusual situation where the judge has asked them to kiss their sibling and settle for a tie.

A handshake would spread a fearful set of germs. A buss on the cheek is considered worse than holding the doorknob of a public restroom.

Cock-eyed optimists point out that Goodell the Czar has unlimited powers and courts are not about to challenge him. Therefore, the NFL is the clear winner in the short haul.

Straight-shooters point out that Brady the Prince Valiant of players has the power to humiliate the game. Therefore, the NFL is a clear loser in the long haul.

At the start of the weekend, Donald Trump again weighed in and called Tom Brady a good man.  So many politicos and fanboys forget that a decade ago the Donald tried to play matchmaker for his daughter Ivanka—and Tom was the choice of the father of the bride.

We suspect that Tom would not be facing these troubles if he were a member of the Billionaire’s Club. As it is, his wife Giselle is worth only half a billion.

We know only one fact will emerge on Monday. There will be a more flattering artist’s rendering of Tom sitting in court.

Another Court Date for Tom & Roger, Artists Beware

Featured imageTom & the Spectre of Deflategate Years Ago

The principal has called the principals to his office one more time.

Since no side has any shame, they will be there in their best duds. The attorneys are making enough money to cover their giggles in straight-arrow dedication and blue serge suits.

In a sport where clear winners usually emerge weekly, and then are celebrated at season’s end, you have the unusual situation where the judge has asked them to kiss their sibling and settle for a tie.

A handshake would spread a fearful set of germs. A buss on the cheek is considered worse than holding the doorknob of a public restroom.

Cock-eyed optimists point out that Goodell the Czar has unlimited powers and courts are not about to challenge him. Therefore, the NFL is the clear winner in the short haul.

Straight-shooters point out that Brady the Prince Valiant of players has the power to humiliate the game. Therefore, the NFL is a clear loser in the long haul.

At the start of the weekend, Donald Trump again weighed in and called Tom Brady a good man.  So many politicos and fanboys forget that a decade ago the Donald tried to play matchmaker for his daughter Ivanka—and Tom was the choice of the father of the bride.

We suspect that Tom would not be facing these troubles if he were a member of the Billionaire’s Club. As it is, his wife Giselle is worth only half a billion.

We know only one fact will emerge on Monday. There will be a more flattering artist’s rendering of Tom sitting in court.

Chris Mortensen, ESPN’s Liar Emeritus

DATELINE: Into the Heart of an Artichoke

Chris Mortensen, We Hardly Recognize You

TheFeatured image man who convinced Roger Goodell to pursue Deflategate, whether he was proven wrong or not, is named Chris Mortensen.

He is, to use the term loosely, a member of the Fourth Estate, according to ESPN.

He proves two wrongs make a right.

Telling lies in American sports is an art of the first order. How he still holds a job is a sign that America sports is a land of crooks and liars.

Though he backs off from claiming he ever blamed Tom Brady for a conspiracy, he is now singing a different tune that Robert Kraft and his dimwit son Jonathan called him to apologize.

That seems an untruth on top of his false deflating reportage.

Yet, it is the sort of duplicity that has permeated the fanbase of 31 NFL teams. They believe his lies.

Worse yet, ESPN lets him promulgate his original baseless charges with impunity.

Worse yet, Roger Goodell has turned both blind eyes to Mortensen as his seeing eye dog.  He admits only he should have clarified his tweets early on. Yes, recanting a lie would have helped. Now he cannot back down—to his ever lasting infamy.

He now is swathing himself in self-righteousness and blaming Bill Belichick for implicating Brady. Hunh?

We have looked into the heart of darkness, and into the heart of an artichoke. And, we have looked into the heart of Chris Mortensen, his satanic majesty. There is no difference.

Bad Reporting Continues in Deflate-gate

DATELINE: Reports Greatly Exaggerated

 

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You couldn’t ask for a better story than Deflate-gate has ruined the marriage of Tom Brady and Giselle Bundchen. It is the kind of journalistic nugget that writers would kill to confirm.

We are always quick to repeat the worst in Deflate-gate. Its humor has the sour, bitter taste of Jonathan Swift turned into Alexander Pope.

Pope was a reprehensible person and brilliant writer. Swift was just ironical.

Unfortunately, the Deflategate fallout is not true. Of course, it has not stopped us from speculating that Deflategate is corrosive and inane, a combination guaranteed to split up families, fans, and football leagues. You blow it into your reportage—for a quick handle on the ball before you kick it out of bounds.

You might want to believe that Tom Brady is as shallow as the reports of underinflated footballs. He regularly posts photos of himself with his children in special moments. The pictures are taken by his wife.

So, to say that he has let Deflategate turn him into a remote automaton is already disproved by the weekly moments of happy time with wife and kids.

There are those who believe in divine punishment as a sports concept.

You need it to make the Zac Efron movie version of Tom’s life to believe any of the Deflategate nonsense. But, like a Zac Efron movie, you are always left thinking something isn’t quite right or quite credible.

Tom Brady’s marriage will withstand a few leaks of psi. Our madness over Deflategate has not.

Rags and Tabloids Taunt Tom & Giselle

DATELINE: MARRIAGE-GO-ROUND-THE-BEND

 

Featured image  Tom & Giselle Deflating

That probably means us. Can there be trouble in Paradise? We are not as bad as Terez Owens, are we?

Tom and Giselle are reportedly bickering and thinking divorce: and his wife is ready to name a co-respondent:  it’s Deflategate.

Imagine if Tom wins his case and loses his trophy wife.

Since the power couple is tickling the bank accounts and stock market in the vicinity of half a billion dollars, we are not talking chicken feed. And, this is all the fault of Roger Goodell.

Tom and Giselle have two lovely children with whom they share Twitter fun moments, but Tom’s preoccupation with pigskin seems to be a detriment to his parenting and husbandry.

According to some reports, Giselle has walked out of the monumental mansion recently built in Brookline, Massachusetts, to serve as Camelot and Brigadoon.  Now it appears more like Brigadoon, about to disappear into the mists.

We might beg Tom to say it isn’t so. Strictly from a business point of view, this is a catastrophe of the first order—and from the moral that money can buy happiness, we are facing another fall from grace.

If the suspension passes, perhaps Tom will feel compelled to spend more time with wife and kids. If the suspension is upheld, perhaps Tom will consider walking away from the sport that may be ruining his personal life.

The great star loves football—but what price glory?

Don Orsillo Loses His Head to King John Henry VIII’s Order!

DATELINE: John Henry as Queen of Hearts

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Don Orsillo Travels with Red Sox

King John Henry VIII has returned to his thrilling days of yesteryear.

He has called for the head of Don Orsillo on a silver platter.

Yes, the long-time voice of the Red Sox on television has been cut with all the pomp and circumstance owner John Henry can muster this side of a seppuku style suicide.
Known largely for his low key humor and patient tolerance of all things ridiculous, Don Orsillo now must gird his loins for the worst than can befall him. His television network, also owned by King John Henry, has decided the gentle voice and kind words of Don Orsillo do not fit a team that has sunk to the baseball cellar for two years running.

We had no idea that the man announcing the bad lineups ordered by King John Henry was also the fall guy for their failure.

Orsillo had shown grace under pressure while working aside long-time sidekick Jerry Remy whose own travails should have sent him packing years ago. With a series of medical problems and a problem child who committed murder, Jerry Remy has made Orsillo’s life difficult.

When a series of inexperienced and unprofessional partners were dumped upon him, Orsillo had the good grace to make them look almost tolerable. For that he has been rewarded with a vote of no confidence.

Someone with Orsillo’s mellifluous tones will no doubt find work quickly in another venue, better than the third-rate world of John Henry and Tom Werner’s media circus.

We feel compelled yet again to offer our bric-a-bracs to the front office buffoons who now run the Red Sox into the ground on a yearly basis.

 

Return of the One-Eyed Witness

DATELINE: Killer Looks

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For the next trial, the prosecutors are heating up.

This week they have confirmed that co-pilot in the killer car, Alexander Bradley, will be given immunity from prosecution in the double murder case if he will be a witness against Aaron Hernandez.

The two have a stormy past—going from best friends and co-conspirators in Aaron’s Murder, Inc., company—to ultimate victim.

It was Bradley who made light of the Boston serial murders during a holiday in Florida with his main man, the Ripper of the Patriots. Not taking kindly to insincere compliments, Hernandez whipped out his Glock.

Instead of pistol whipping his boy, he simply shot him in the face and dumped him out of the car in an alley at night, presuming Bradley to be a goner.

It was a fatal mistake for a serial killer—not to be certain your victim is dead. For Bradley lived, merely losing an eye from the gunshot.

Now he is one of the walking dead. At the first trial Bradley’s testimony brought Hernandez to life and life imprisonment at the trial. They exchanged smoldering looks, like a couple of antagonists in a divorce proceeding.

Now one-eyed Jack, Alexander Bradley, will return for a command performance.

We can hardly wait for the holiday hijinks when Bradley and Hernandez come face to face, but not see eye to eye.

Provocation may be sweet revenge by Bradley, no candidate for Mensa. If he baits his former patron to an outburst, we might have fireworks along the line of Whitey Bulger and his henchpeople shouting at each other during that whimsical murder trial.

More to anticipate….

TALES OF A TITANIC FAMILY

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Trump Endorses Tom Brady

DATELINE: Powerful Friends

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The Donald weighed in again on Tom Brady whom he labeled a “great friend of mine.”  He even showed his cell phone with a message that Tom had sent Trump his new number.

Taking Brady’s side is a non-brainer. Trump noted that spending over $10 milion in legal fees was a crazy notion. There is no reason to torment a “a great star. They ought to go back to playing football. This country has bigger problems.”

In Donald Trump’s opinion, the NFL has wronged a great player through the ridiculous parody of justice called Deflategate.  He believes Tom should never have been suspended, and he is equally convinced that Tom will win his lawsuit.

We doubt that this makes a dent in the cement head logic of Roger Goodell who thinks he is the czar of football with unlimited powers of punishment.

When it comes to fantasy football, Tom is Trump’s main guy.

We have speculated that Tom likely has a post in a cabinet of President Trump—or perhaps Trump will make him overseer of national sports.

In the world of politics, Trump’s endorsement of Tom will likely mean somewhere down the line, Tom Brady will have to return the favor—and give his endorsement of Trump’s candidacy.

This is not a problem as Brady is a well-known Republican libertarian, a believer in cell phone privacy, and a man on the right side of issues.

Goodell’s Owners’ Council

DATELINE: FARCE

Featured imageOOPs!   wrong Roger!!

In case you’re wondering, Roger Goodell has been running around like crazy this weekend. He has tried to gather a group of owners to put a stamp of approval on some kind of settlement with Tom Brady.

The owner of the New York Giants refused to serve.

You know you are in trouble when your bosses won’t lift a finger to save your bacon.

Ah, the perogrative of being a billionaire! You may rest assured that no billionaire is refusing to help Goodell because they hate the Patriots. They are letting their Commissioner twist slowly in the wind.

The prevailing owner view is that Goodell has created a mess—and he has to own up to his actions. That likely means the owners have their cake and eat it too. They can later step back from Goodell, or more likely step on Goodell for his gross incompetence.

First and foremost, there are some who have thought hiring Ted Wells is not the best or brightest idea. This is the man who has made tobacco money for arguing second-hand smoke will not give you lung cancer.

Now he is saying that Tom Brady seems to have deflated footballs.

And, Goodell took this as an indictment with a smoking gun. It looks like Wells and his second-hand smoke screen is doing in Roger Goodell. Puff, puff, Roger, and tell St. Peter at the Golden Gate that he will just have to wait….you want to puff on the funny smoke given to you by Ted Wells.