Masters of Suspension: Hitch a Wagon to Goodell
Yes, The Noose Hangs High for Abbot and Costello was great cinema. So was Clint Eastwood’s High’em High. Hanging Tom Brady in effigy cannot hold a candle in comparison.
If you are waiting like Madame Defarge with your knitting needles before the guillotine, you could be knitting your brow before you knit an Afghan comforter. In a world of tit for tat, Tom Brady won’t be climbing those steps to his own execution.
The NFL wants to hand out suspensions in cold blood.
Suspension madness, as practiced by Goodell, is nothing short of a Death Wish. But Roger is no Charles Bronson, and his victims are about to wish upon a star like Tom.
Roger Goodell is likely to be waiting at the top of the Empire State Building in the rain, hoping for an end to this Affair to Remember.
Roger Goodell may be standing up there atop the altar, like one of those Mayan heart throb chisellers, but Tom’s heart will keep pumping up those NFL fans. It will be Apocalypto for Goodell.
Death May Come for the Archbishop, but Tom Brady will not fall off the Bridge of San Luis Rey, no matter how Wilder it becomes in Our Town.
After presiding over his own version of the Monkey Trial, Goodell is ready to Inherit the Wind.
When it comes to executing a four game suspension for Tom, Death Takes a Holiday. We are listening for the uplift of Copeland’s Appalachian Spring to sound its clarion call.
If it takes until the First Monday in October to find a court injunction, Tom will stop the Star Chamber from filling with noxious gas.