DATELINE: DEFLATEGATE OVERWROUGHT
The Deflategate hearing proved to be big. It was a really big show for a really Big Apple.
We had an epic on our hands. Tom Brady looked more stunning than Lawrence of Arabia in his white robes. We looked for camels as a harbinger of the showdown.
We thought Donald Trump was going to show up and fire Goodell.
There were so many lawyers attending that they had to find a bigger conference room.
It went on hours longer than the original plan. Yes, after months of waiting, the hearing went over budget. Some claimed it ran ten hours or more. Others said with coffee breaks and lunch, it ran closer to fifty minutes.
The clocks said ten to twelve hours, or was that merely the clock striking the witching hour? We had an epic on the order of Chimes at Midnight.
The event was Biblical. Though it did not rain frogs in New York, it did rain cats and dogs. And in New England the tornado warnings and torrential downpours were reminiscent of 40 days and nights of rain. We looked for the NFL officials to sail off in an ark.
This was the Ben Hur of hearings. It ran longer than the chariot race and seemed to leave wreckage everywhere we looked, but that mess was merely the look of Manhattan around NFL headquarters. It always looks that way.
No one ever saw Brady leave, but there were sightings of Goodell with a growth of beard and a rumpled suit like he had been wrestling an alligator—or just with his conscience. He walked like a man with more boils than Job.
Reporters and media finally gave up on Brady as midnight approached. Security said he beamed up to the Kraft mothership much earlier. The day went slower than Star Trek: The Motion Picture.
Brady’s expensive and topnotch attorney Jeffrey Kessler briefly let the waiting protestors know that he had made a “compelling case” for his high salary.
If he hadn’t, Brady ought to demand his money back.
The Deflate-gate roadshow was over. It wasn’t the greatest show on earth, and it wasn’t the greatest story ever told.