T-Rex Ryan Chomps on Patriots One More Time


rex before&after

Rex Ryan: Then and Now

As the Patriots go up against the New York Jets one last time in 2014, garbage time in some sports cities, Boston fans are having a last laugh at Tyrannosaurus Rex Ryan.

The man who once spread fear into Patriot hearts has devolved into a figure of comedy and pity.

Rex Ryan ‘coulda been a contender’, if we put him into the chubby Marlon Brando role in On the Waterfront. Nowadays you could say that Ryan prowls the docks looking for a quarterback. He would have given his kingdom for a quarterback.

Of course, to suggest with snide derision that Rex might have won a Super Bowl with Tom Brady rather takes a hoity-toity look at the job of head coach. You need more than a legendary, godlike visitor on the order of someone out of the Ancient Aliens. Tom does fit the Bill, but likely would not have fit the T-Rex.

Ryan never let the Patriots walk all over him. He was like a punch drunk fighter who didn’t know the word “tank.” Ryan always made his teams competitive and gave the Patriots a run for their rings.

We don’t expect T-Rex to kiss anybody’s ring finger, but he could chomp down hard as the final game of 2014 between the haves and have nots reaches it acme.

This Year’s New England Patriot Most Valuable Teammate

 DATELINE: Award Winner

glad gladiators

Cockeyed optimists in Patriot Nation have taken up a new hobby. They are figuring out who the MVP on the team can be.

This is sort of like counting your chickens before they’re driving off the bridge, or driving your chickens home after a long walk on the short pier.

You have to love a media that encourages smugness and hubris. It’s the kind of stuff that might get you killed on Mount Olympus, or even in the Roman arena.

We’d put our hands up, but that gesture went out with Whistler’s Mother on your locker room calendar.

We aren’t sure what award will be given by unofficial dueling blog entries that name the MVP of the season for the Patriots. This reminds us of our notorious annual Boston Garbo Award for Athletes. That award was retired when Rajon Rondo left town this morning.

We feel strongly that Tom Brady deserves some recognition this season as the homespun humorist most likely to play in a Super Bowl.

We think Jonas Gray should be given the annual audition to do standup on the Letterman show—before it is taken over by some cable guy.

We’d say Darnelle Revis stands alone, but no man is an island.

LaGarrette Blout might be a candidate for something, but we’d be blowing smoke in your eyes.

Gronk put a tiger in the tank, but he prefers a big Polish sausage to winning an award.

A few years back the Patriots had the right idea of valuable players. It’s a team effort—and no one person of interest should be singled out unless he is a felon.

Gronk’s Weakness: Big Polish Sausage

DATELINE: Cooking Up a Storm with Gronk


Gronk has now made an appearance on a cooking show on cable television.

This is the first Boston sports celebrity to try his hand at the oven or hot plate since Rajon Rondo dueled Ray Allen’s wife and lost.

Rondo, of course, always considered himself chef-material. In the case of Gronk, the TV hostess noted he was a gourmand. Perhaps someone explained the term to Gronk before the show because he seemed to understand it meant he liked to eat—and often.

The high point of Rajon’s TV appearance was a snide side glance at Shannon who was telling him how to cook. One had the feeling no one gave Rondo orders—ever, be they menu items or short order appetizers.

For Gronk, he never met a Polish sausage he didn’t like.

Indeed, when Gronk professed with real passion that he loved big Polish sausages, it caused more double-entendre snickers than Mae West used to receive when she admitted she was like Snow White, “but drifted.”

There is no doubt that Gronk can spread charm on a cracker with the best of them. He played “Honey,” his cook off partner as someone making comments that might backfire. Gronk never once considered his own admission for liking the sausage large.


The chefs Gronk faced off were clearly fans of other teams and were not so smitten with Gronk’s proportional preferences.

We can only note that it’s too bad Boston sports celebrities don’t appear on cooking shows more often. But, if you can’t stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen.



Rondo RIP

DATELINE: Death to the Infidel


Rajon Rondo said trade rumors were a “way of life,” after some of the most giddy media reports. It wasn’t the rumors of a trade so much as the delight in the notion that Rondo was a dead duck that struck observers.

Trade rumors appeared to be less than a way of life, but more akin to a death knell.

The bell has tolled for Rondo enough times to be a unconstitutional cruel and unusual punishment.

Insiders who claim knowledge usually reserved for the Mahdi or clairvoyants were jumping on the bandwagon with tar and feathers for Rondo as his travel outfit.

Old Ainge pal Kevin McHale figured in some rumors. He was the man who gave Ainge his NBA title seven years ago with Kevin Garnett. Could McHale do it again?

Since the names floated as return investment for Rondo seem rather pale riders, we know that someone has decided Rondo is expendable. His slumping ways in recent weeks may have signaled vulnerability, or just a good time to dump the future salary choke in the Celtics gullet.

There seemed no good match coming to Boston in return for Rondo, but detractors, as always, noted the heavy burden of Rondo lifted from our back was freedom itself.

If Rondo ever felt unwanted, he was experiencing the horror that befell Kendrick Perkins, Kevin Garnett, and Paul Pierce before him.

To be the last dinosaur standing while the asteroid’s impact devastated all that you loved and knew may be enough to send Rondo packing with eager desire.

Rumors had Rondo going West, where young men could find a championship team faster than waiting for the sun to rise in the east.

As for us, we see Rondo’s departure as the onset of a famine and the epitome of a plague on our house. A curse may fall upon the Boston Celtics for their hubris.

What If They Gave an Interview and No One Cared?


Hynkel's Dance PartnerFranco-stein

Suppose North Korea declared war on Hollywood and everybody laughed.

The looney premise of a comedy movie by Hollywood irreverent and insouciant actors (Seth Rogan, James Franco) has now become a costly bill. The overindulgent generation that thought they could act with impunity has now discovered madmen and despots are dangerous. The movie called The Interview is public enemy #1 in North Korea.

Does anyone really think attacks on filmgoers attending a mindless assassination comedy are imminent? We fully expect the critics will kill this movie. But, it is an open question. In this day and age, anything goes.

Freedom of speech has met its match in North Korean due diligence.

Most people likely believe the hacking of Sony Productions is a publicity stunt. Hearing that the enemy has let us know we are our own worst enemies is a joke of the first order. How many movie fans think stars being called egomaniacs is no big news?

Is it bravura, or can the long arm of North Korean assassins do in the movie stars of The Interview—and the ticket-buying public too?

Movie stars now step back and say the media should not report ugly, private emails when for years they have bitten the hand of the media every day. Whether North Korea can take down a movie studio is an interesting question.

We are not quite sure what to make of threats against movie-goers for plunking down $10 to watch political satire. Comedy movies by Seth Rogan and James Franco are not exactly our cup of tea, though we reserve the right to call The Interview high art on the order of The Great Dictator.

In all likelihood, we are more inclined to think this is a tempest in a teacup.

Three Complaints To FCC Spell Trouble for Tom Brady

DATELINE: No Time for Speeches


After David Ortiz used a microphone to drop an F-bomb at Fenway Park on live TV, the FCC has received a trio of complaints about Tom Brady’s lip-readers’ special during a Sunday game two weeks ago.

A handful of New York Jets and Philadelphia Eagles fans were offended by the language and threated to throw snowballs at Santa if he appears at their stadiums. They cursed out Tom Brady in no uncertain terms as a symbol of the fall of civilization.

Tom Brady’s bad language has created a firestorm of polysyllabic potty terms among the most moral members of society.

The NFL has been mulling a zero F-bomb tolerance policy. First offenders will have to stand on the sideline for the next game with a bar of soap wedged between their teeth.

Second offenders will be forced to recite the Gettysburg Address at a military training camp, and third offenders will be banned from church for life.

Sinners can repent, but the NFL Network has to use a bleeper button that makes a kookoo sound. The problem emerged a few years back when the official bleeping bleeper of the NFL was let go due to budget cuts.

After Ortiz gave patriotic comments about America and the terrorist bombers after the Boston Marathon, he was excused from culpability because English is his second language. Actually, local college professors said he spoke no known language.

Tom Brady is different. As a real American who is articulate, he must be punished for expressing free speech on a cable network. Everyone knows that streaming potty mouths on cable cost big bucks to subscribers.

Tom Brady’s agent said he was merely rehearsing his new stand-up comic routine with comic relief teammate Jonas Gray.

Gearing Up & Gearing Down for the Big Hernandez Trial

DATELINE: Keep Those Patriot Petticoats Under Wraps

tatt boy

Keep Those Pat Tatts Under Cover

We knew deep down that Judge Susan Garsh was not a New England Patriots fan. And, she proved it with her latest ruling.

No one will be allowed into the courtroom wearing any kind, type, style, or makeshift, Patriot gear. Not only that, she will ban anyone in such outfittings from the building itself.

Those planning to wave Patriot pennants in the spectator rows will be forthwith removed from the courtroom.

We suspect this means there will be no openly visible Patriot fans on the jury. If you thought you could wear a Pat Patriots helmet to the jury selection, think again.

This is especially bad news for owner Robert Kraft, a likely witness for the prosecution. Kraft is a well-known self-promoter, and he may be deeply depressed that he cannot plug his Super Bowl bound-team. Of course, if the trial coincides with the Super Bowl, Kraft may be sorry indeed that he is missing the big game.

We were looking into what this means for our fashion-plate press corps. The usual beat reporters who ask Gronk questions while he is naked will not be able to report on what Patriot gear the defendant is wearing under his orange jumpsuit. We know that he may have a superstition that requires so kind of victor’s Patriot gear under the overcoat.

Since the Patriots themselves have collected and destroyed Hernandez jerseys (#81 and #85, home and away), fans may be hard pressed to find the right garment to wear while they line the streets of Fall River when Hernandez is driven past in a police car to the trial each day.








Scandalous Sinatra in Australia




Little known film All the Way from 2003 might be a cable TV movie that no one ever saw, but it features a bravura performance from Dennis Hopper as Frank Sinatra. The movie also is known under another title, helping to keep it lost.

In his old age Hopper could channel Sinatra in his old age.

Perhaps the scourge of fame and scandal helped one counter-culture legend play off and play at the show business culture icon. Sinatra had become his own legend’s proponent in his later years.

The songs are sung by a Sinatra impersonator, but Hopper has clearly studied the footage of concerts and body language of Ol’Blue Eyes.

The 1973 trip to Australia was a disaster from the start, organized by a laid-back promoter (Joel Edgerton) who is mostly surf-bum and son of a mobster. Charming, he manages to win over the Chairman of the Board.

Alas, the culture of Australia does not take kindly to the acerbic insults Sinatra hurls. Before long, he is prisoner in his hotel room—as unions deny him services, water, and all other creature comforts. He cannot even leave the country.

Sinatra never apologized and took the world on his terms, as his girlfriend Barbara Marx (Melanie Griffith) could attest. His agent (an unrecognizable David Hemmings in one of his last roles) is a long-suffering toadie.

The film delineates a turning point for Sinatra where ego and arrogance were hard qualities to divest.

The movie is worth it for the performances alone. It is a little known aspect of the great singer’s career—and may be fascinating to Sinatra devotees and those who love the TMZ celebrity culture.sinatra movie

Young Tom Turkey or Young Tom Brady?


Tom as Satire

When Tom Brady ran for 17 yards against Miami, he seemed to grow younger with each plodding step. And, eventually, he seemed to pick up steam as he grew young again, magical and breathtaking.

However foolhardy for an old man to run with monsters of the gridiron chasing him, Tom seemed like a character out of the zombie wars. Those creatures with dead souls couldn’t stop him or knock him off his feet.

There are those media insiders who believe Tom Terrific was playing like Tom Turkey. One injury could ruin the Patriot season and Tom’s career. Wife Giselle would not be able to put Humpty Brady together again.

If you think this run back toward the time machine is an accident, you haven’t been following Tom Brady’s career lately. He is on a binge of mineral baths in the Fountain of Youth. He is taking the waters like it was the nineteenth century of his youth all over again.

Tom recently announced he would play till the age of 50 at which time he would become 25 again. With a regimen of sleep, diet, and psychic energy, Tom plans to evolve into a specimen that Dr. Frankenstein wishes he could have created. He may even steal Gronk body parts.

Many NFL fans think it is far more likely that an asteroid will hit the Earth during the Super Bowl than for Tom Brady to transform into a sweet bird of youth.

Those of us Brady observers know that it is more than botox under the wrinkles that is making Tom seem younger than springtime.

Coal from Santa: One Lump Or Two?



We had a peek at Santa Claus’s list of who’s been naughty and nice this year. We can’t figure out where Santa finds his industrial amount of chunks of coal to stuff in the stockings of professional athletes.

Big feet means big stockings and big stuffers. We know because we have seen Aaron Hernandez close up.

We understand St. Nick plans to dump a ton of coal into the jumpsuit of Aaron Hernandez, but there is barely enough room with all the junk already in there.

Lumps of coal seem de rigueur for Adrian Petersen and Ray Rice. Adrian ought to sit on a hickory stick while he punches Rice in the nose, making Rice want his two front teeth for Xmas.

Owners of the Boston Red Sox should be sent down to the coalmines to dig out their own tiny lumps of coal after their media-driven game of Jon Lester oneupsmanship.

Lebron James deserves some special Welsh coal from the green valley of Wales after he manhandled the future queen of England.

If Bill Belichick isn’t already dating the coalminer’s daughter, we’d suggest he is up to his eyeballs in Santa’s symbolic gift.

Santa ought to pay Rajon Rondo a visit with a chunk of coal for not having insisted on being traded anywhere months ago.

NBA Commissioner Adam Silver deserves a wee bit of coal for making NBA players wear pajamas and calling them a new uniform.

NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell deserves two bits of coal for botching personal misconduct rules and then not applying them to himself.

And foremost of all, we think every referee and umpire in any and all pro sports deserve more coal than could heat a city for their bad calls and constant interjecting themselves into the outcome of games everywhere.