Clothes Unmake the Man; Edelman in Mufti

DATELINE: Living DangerouslyFeatured image

Julian Edelman continues to live with the middle name “Danger.” Halloween has brought JE11 to the dreaded Day of the Dead Ringer.

It is not his on field heroics that make him a daredevil. Oh, no, he is now flirting with the self-destructive flames that finally engulfed Wes Welker.

If this weekend’s drag costume is any indication, we are wishing he could go back to the thrilling days when he dressed up as a Nevada State Trooper in tight shorts as his Halloween impersonation. Mufti may suit Edelman, but his suit is a longshot this time.

This year Tom Brady may take two steps away from Edelman, and he may give the prized seat on the bench next to the star QB to Danny Amendola, whose insanity does not translate into poking a stick at Bill Belichick.

If someone wants to give Edelman a cache of old Welker tapes showing his various antagonisms of the Head Coach, this might be a blessing—or it may already be too late. Julian Edelman wishes he were Bill Belichick, and perhaps one day he will be a coach in the NFL. We do not think he will be coaching for Bill Belichick any time soon.

Dressed in drab gray like the notorious Hoodie Himself, Edelman has not only found the fashion gravitas to imitate his coach. He has used the Method actor’s technique to channel the personality into the cut-off sleeves and semi-attached headphone.

Perhaps imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, or perhaps flattery is imitation’s sincerity.

Julian Edelman deserves an extra Snickers in his candy grab bag for this audacious twist. Those who are about to die will probably salute Julien Edelman—all others will run for the hills.

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Flipper and Gronk Will Meet Again in a Sequel

Ossurworld's Irreverence, Irony, Insouciance & Iconoclasm

DATELINE: Titan Rematch Coming Soon

Featured imageGronk & Luke Halpin with Flipper

Fifty years ago another Boston sports icon made a movie called Flipper.

Yes, you diehard Celtics fans all remember Chuck Connors, star of 1963’s first Flipper.

He was the kindly father to Luke Halpin, the loincake star of the movie that took Lassie and made the story aquatic. The sweet dolphin saved the boy in a series of adventures.

How the times have changed. Now, the Dolphin has turned into a monster. If you follow the New England Patriots and their monstrous tight end, you have seen the worm turn. Yes, Flipper is now going up against Gronk.

Not since King Kong met Godzilla has there been such a lopsided victory. May the best creature win.

Gronk posted his victory dance on his personal website. As far as we know Luke Halpin continues to keep a fond…

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Flipper and Gronk Will Meet Again in a Sequel

DATELINE: Titan Rematch Coming Soon

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Gronk & Luke Halpin with Flipper

Fifty years ago another Boston sports icon made a movie called Flipper.

Yes, you diehard Celtics fans all remember Chuck Connors, star of 1963’s first Flipper.

He was the kindly father to Luke Halpin, the loincake star of the movie that took Lassie and made the story aquatic. The sweet dolphin saved the boy in a series of adventures.

How the times have changed. Now, the Dolphin has turned into a monster. If you follow the New England Patriots and their monstrous tight end, you have seen the worm turn. Yes, Flipper is now going up against Gronk.

Not since King Kong met Godzilla has there been such a lopsided victory. May the better creature win.

Gronk posted his victory dance on his personal website. As far as we know Luke Halpin continues to keep a fond memory of his biggest fan, Flipper.

We aren’t sure if we should accuse Gronk of cruelty to animals. We hear the high whistle of Flipper now as he faces a worse challenge than fending off sharks. Nothing compares to one solid spike from the Gronk, not even a bite from the Great White Shark from Jaws.

We hesitate to urge Hollywood producers to offer a role to Gronk in the new version of King Kong versus Godzilla, or better yet to have a warmup battle in Miami between Gronk and Flipper. We suspect it would have to be a cage match.

Flipper is a flipping slippery mammal, but Gronk knows how to deflate anything he spikes. Fans may be already looking forward to the new battle of the monsters when the Patriots meet the Dolphins in Miami in the finale of the season.

Belichick’s Trick is the Patriots’ Treat

DATELINE: Campbell’s New Line of Mincemeat

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Dan Campbell’s Miami Manwich recipe turned out to have too little meat and too much sauce.

The New England Chowdah-heads of the Patriots chopped up the Dolphins like a fricassee delicacy. The secret ingredient of a Manwich is apparently a Dolphin head.

The lesson taught to the Miami Dolphins probably could be put under the category of tough guys always lose by thirty points to a team with Dr. Frankenstein’s cousin, Bill Belichick, performing the surgery.

We know now that the next time Dr. Belichick wants to create a Halloween monster like Tom Brady, he will not ask his Igor, Josh McMcDaniels, to procure a brain like Ryan Tannehill’s.

Last week’s Offensive Player of the Week is Tom Brady’s lunch today.

Yes, the Manwich central nervous system went into lockdown when a snap went flying past Tannehill who was checking out someone in the Patriots peanut gallery. The result was a safety and a guarantee that this year’s Dolphins are not quite ready for prime time.

It isn’t fair at this time of year when ghouls frequent the NFL under the auspices of that warlock Roger Goodell. Belichick has two monsters running amok on the gridiron. Gronk also seemed to be in traditional seasonal mode.

Campbell himself looks like he was yesteryear’s model for Gronk. At least he has kept his juiced-up figure on the sidelines where he spat tobacco juice out at all the closeup moments on TV. What a role model for kids!!

Instead of trying to make a Manwich from of his out-of-water Dolphins, Dan Campbell may want to go Trick or Treating this year and find a few Snickers candy bars. His players may not be themselves, as the commercial often tells us.

We aren’t sure a candy bar is the antidote to hubris and incompetence.

Neither is a trumped up Manwich.

Boston Celtics Compete with GOP Debate Team

DATELINE: Presidential or Green?

Featured imageJelly O’Sully for President?

The Celtics season opener went head to head with the third Republican Presidential debate. The similarities were striking.

The Celtics have fielded about as many players as there are people running for president on the GOP side. The winnowing process appears to be slow and methodical. Those we expected to fall by the wayside have held firm—and so have the candidates. Most had predicted that Rand Paul and Jared Sullinger would be playing another game before the summer was over.

Marco Rubio and Isaiah Thomas have come off the bench, but want to be starters. And the pine riders to start the season are still four Republicans who cannot crack one percent support. Brad Stevens has ten who dare to play, and four or five others who may be off the Gallup Poll come Christmas.

The Celtics are one up one the Republicans because there is one Smart player in Green. We haven’t found too many claiming to be a Smart defensive whiz in the GOP field, though all advocate a strong defense, winning the approval of Brad Stevens.

There were five steals among the Celtics in their first game, and there were five insults from the media at the debate. There are nearly as many doubters among sports media as among CNBC.

Tyler Zeller seemed to be the Kasich of the team, receiving little respect and finding himself on the end of the bench by halftime.  Dr. Carson and Avery Bradley seem to be rising stars at the moment.

If Rondo were on this team, we might have our Trump. As it is, we have to give the title to Tommy Heinsohn who trumps all know-it-alls when it comes to insight and opinion.

We have seen a bunch of road shows for the GOP debating team, but the Celtics don’t go on the road for another week.

Stay tuned.  Someone is bound to throw a brick or sling some mud before much longer.

 

Tom Brady Throws a Scare on Halloween

DATELINE:  Boo!

Featured imageTom, is that you?

How can we compete with the humor of Tom Brady?

What does the star quarterback of the New England Patriots do on his off-day during a short week? Well, if it’s Halloween on the calendar, Brady is up to some masked hijinks. Check it out in our highlight.

Don’t ask who that masked man is in the Whole Food grocery store chain?  We can show you that right here. He put his autograph in a canister of candy for a lucky buyer.

Okay, it is a paid promotional stunt, but it still manages to be head and shoulders above Peyton Manning trying shove an extra piece of pizza down your throat, or Aaron Rogers attempting to escape his nemesis and stalker, the Cheesehead guy/girl.

Walking into a public supermarket and not being accosted is likely a rare experience for Brady. And only on the days before Halloween can he likely do it, wearing an oversize head that likely would be a tight fit for Richard Sherman, Sheldon Richardson, or Chris McCain.

Brady has posted his trick to his usual haunt, the Facebook page where he deposits most of his funny stuff.

We are almost tempted to run to the local emporium and snag a couple of buckets of healthy candy. Would Brady endorse anything less than that?

If he wears that mask during the game on Thursday, we believe a whole bunch Dolphins will swim back to Miami.

With the remnants of Hurricane Patricia about to descend on Gillette Stadium, Tom will whip up his own storm of touchdowns. We saw online the other day that “Gronkowski” is Polish for touchdown.

As we said at the start, our whimsy can’t compete with reality.

Chris McCain: Wanted for Impersonating a College Player

DATELINE:  Can the Dolphin

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For a few short days, the Dolphins will live, feel dawn, see sunset glow, but then the Patriots will host them at Gillette Stadium, the last refuge of braggadocio scoundrels.

Soon the Dolphins too will lie in tuna factory with the Jets, the Colts, and four other victims of Tom Brady’s “revenge on them all” bunch.

The latest in a long litany of ninnies is Dolphin Chris McCain, not to be confused with Chris Crocker, the dimwit who cried about being fair to Britney Spears and later became a gay porn star.

McCain is in the mold of Sheldon Richardson, Richard Sherman, and a series of loudmouth punks who try to tie their names to Tom Brady. It must have something to do with hoping fifteen minutes of fame will rub off during a 60-minute game. Fat chance.

This Mr. McCain is no war hero and is not related to Senator John McCain. This former California Golden Bear plays for the rejuvenated and deluded Miami Dolphins. About a year ago he posted his Twitter photo that featured him squeezing Tom Brady’s head like it was a walnut.

This bulletin board material will hardly inflame anyone on the Patriots, though Julien Edelman might have some kind of Photoshop response with a tad more wit and a little less subtlety. McCain seems to have stunted mental growth, keeping him at the primary levels of thinking skills.

Kicked off his college team for conduct detrimental to the team, he was signed by Miami—the team that brought you Aaron Hernandez’s best friend, Mike Pouncey, the man with the Free Hernandez cap.

Now that the new Coach Campbell is accepting everything from soup to nuts on his squad, McCain fits right in as the cracker in the bowl of hearty har-har Chicken Noodle soup.

McCain’s claim to fame, besides being expelled from his college football team, is that he boasts a Wikipedia biography of a dozen lines, and not many statistics worth repeating. His Dolphins webpage biography is a sign of diminishing returns. Is there anything there? Is there anyone home?

We expect Gronk to bounce him out of the club on Thursday night.

Tom Brady’s Backup: a Thankless and Unforgiving Job

DATELINE:  Squired to the Fourth Power

Featured imageGaroppolo or Bust

Tom Brady’s surrogates, blood brothers, or clones, have been somewhat of a bust in the NFL. When they move on from the Patriots, their careers seem to hover over an abyss.

Over the years, the thankless role of backup to Tom Brady with the New England Patriots has fallen to four men in particular: Brian Hoyer, Matt Cassel, and Ryan Mallett. Tim Tebow was briefly here, but couldn’t work up a sweat. Today Jimmy Garappolo is the latest squire-in-waiting.

They may have even taken a couple of snaps in lieu of Brady. Cassel actually played the year Brady went down with a season-ending injury, and his play has won him opportunities to play QB for other teams.

A moat quickly seems to surround Cassel—as the Buffalo Bills and now the Dallas Cowboys have discovered. Alas, the affable Cassel seems doomed to be the eternal backup, but not quite right enough in his own right. The high point of his career was to be Tom’s acolyte.

A man without hair plugs, Hoyer was no Brady.  Hoyer  battled Cassel and Mallett for the right to be second-rate on other teams. His latest foray with the Houston Texans has made him back up QB on a team led by Bill O’Brien who was Bill Belichick’s backup. Oh, the ignominy of it all. Both O’Brien and Mallett may not be long for their jobs. We are sure they will back up somewhere else.

The latest catastrophe is Ryan Mallett who is showing signs of non-greatness. This week alone he missed the Texan team flight—and had to buy his own ticket. It suggests he may not have control over his own life, let alone a team’s destiny. Within hours of this post, Texan Mallett was cut, released, fired, or sent packing, depending on your feelings toward him. The eyes of Texas are no longer upon him.

Jimmy Garappolo is the latest Brady backup. Looking good in his underwear may win him a few fans on websites other than DuelKings or FanDuels, but he seems like a lost soul on the waiting list of the Patriots.

Brady Overcomes the Air Pressure and Whoosh of the Jets

DATELINE: Flight of Jets Cancelled

Featured imageBrady Takes Down Jets

Tom Brady declared today’s game a “no fly zone,” thereby grounding the Jets.

However, it was his own flight pattern that found itself pulverized by a bad case of dropsy among his receivers. Even sure-handed Julian Edelman could not corral a fastball that reached him on the goal line. As a result, the Patriots were breathing heavy until the fourth quarter.

Among the worst offenders of the day was Brandon LaFell returning from a long stint of being unable to play. We had a news flash during the game. He was still unable to play. Fortunately Danny Amendola was airborne for every catch.

If Bill Belichick is any judge, we may have witnessed the rise and fall of La Fell. To drop one pass is human; to forgive would be divine. To drop six passes (out of a team group of nine) would require an act of the Supreme Court of the United States to order Belichick to withhold his eternal damnation.

Brady’s wife is above suspicion and last time something like this happened she was overheard saying her husband could not catch AND throw the ball. When Gronk caught the ball, he carried the ball and Jet players too.

He could run it, though, being a big rusher of the day, including a touchdown. Not bad for an old man who lost his razor blade sometime during the week.

Perhaps Tom is hiding those little scars he picked up in Paris over the summer. But, when he turned on his scalpel during the fourth quarter, the Jets were not only grounded, they were under investigation by the FAA.

Yes, the Patriots beat the nefarious Jets with their new non-nonsense flight pattern. It didn’t matter. Brady always goes first class and travels with only a toothbrush. The Pats’ mechanics caused engine problems, and the local birds flew into the Jets’ flight path.

Now toward a short week and the revamped and rejuvenated Dolphins.

Julian Edelman Paves the Road to Hell

DATELINE:  Stand Down Comic

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We all know the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Julian Edelman is now on the DPW truck with tar on his hands.

If you think Edelman is an untouchable on the Patriots team because of his extraordinary development into the new Wes Welker, you need only ask Wes Welker how important that is.

Welker made a few foot jokes at the expense of podiatrist loving Rex Ryan—and it was the beginning of his New England curtain call. When he made choice comments in regard to his Machiavellian coach, he was toast. They did not want him back.

Edelman is stepping into those discarded shoes of Wes Welker. His interview with loathsome ESPN may be on the verge of treason in the fiefdom of Foxboro.

The slot man gives a dead-on impersonation of Bill Belichick in his full dyspepsia mode, telling players, “There are players at Foxboro High School who can play better.”  Even a moment after he did his public version of a Saturday Night Live skit, he knew it was less than a good idea.

That did not stop him from imitating Tom Brady in full octave higher mode, sounding like a harpie. Hmm, there goes four years of hard work trying to be Tom’s best buddy. Gronk’s take on it is that Julian is a toady of the highest order. Jules recounts his four year effort to become Tom’s jock-sniffing lackey.

Of course, Edelman’s piece of resistance may center on the Gaza strip tease he did. When asked if he were Jewish, Edelman put the emphasis on “ish.”  Hmm, we doubt that won him any friends at B’nai B’rith.

The entire idea to do an in-season interview on the network that had most blown up the Deflategate contretemps seems ill-advised at best. Whether Julian Edelman turns out to be the hero of the Patriots, or another cast off, only the cognoscenti can say. And, we aren’t talking.

Jets Tank Half Empty After Media Blow Up

DATELINE:  Cue the Baying Media Hounds

Featured imageSheldon is Heard!

Some people actually have been concerned with this week’s opponent for the New England Patriots: the New York Jets, formerly the plaything of T-Rex Ryan.

There’s a new coach roaming the meadowlands, and he has tried to convey a sober, down-to-earth, bluster-free endzone. His players have lost the swagger, the locker room fighting, and the butt fumbles. These Jets are not exactly playing button-down Wall Street games, but they are trying to fly under the radar.

The flight plan was going well until Jet nitwit Sheldon Richardson allegedly guaranteed a victory against the Patriots.

If you want bulletin-board material to fire up a team already on a mission to decimate every rival that challenges them, the Jets had made a giant misstep. Todd Bowles, the new coach, seemed a tad disjointed over this—and the revisionists noted that Richardson, a loudmouth suspended substance abuse kind of guy, had been misquoted.

Richardson, in the grand tradition of those with a habit of inserting foot into mouth, charged the media with taking liberties with his inane words. He never guaranteed anything. He went a giant step forward for mankind by blaming Roger Goodell for forcing players to speak to the media. Now that’s a wordsmith defense worthy of Goodell.

If you mix two combustible chemicals, you are bound to end up with publicity to inflame the masses. In this case, we have another imbecile player and sensation-seeking ESPN types. Stir gently.

The result is the NFL profits but the player loses his soul. Then, said player recants, and the media licks its chops at a delicious double-scoop of tutti-frutti cotton-candy. Sheldon shall not lick his chops again any time soon.

In the meantime, the damage is done. The Patriots likely have been irked to the degree that they will mean business when they disingenuously say it’s just another notch on the gun belt while they pummel the Jets into oblivion.

The Jets have once again caused passengers to fight in flight over reclining seats. Yep, another butt fumble.

Tom Brady’s Secret Plan to Play Ten More Years

DATELINE: I’ve Got a Secret or To Tell the Truth?

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Will the Real Tom Please Stand Up?

Tom Brady has consulted a great oracle of fame and immortality this week. He did it by communing with the dead author of “The Canterbury Ghost,” a short ditty written by his new mentor: Oscar Wilde.

And, Oscar Wilde told him he can play for ten more years. Not even Josef Stalin went for ten years; he always stuck with five year plans.

However, Brady must keep that courtroom sketch from the Deflategate controversy hidden in his attic. All the ills of his life, aging, and negative feelings will transfer to the picture. While it grows more monstrous in his vault of shame, Tom will continue to look the picture of health and beauty.

That New York artist and Jets fan Jane Rosenberg will probably be at the Meadowlands, trying to sell him another vision of the future.

Tom Brady may not be young enough to know everything, but he has started to become wiser with his fortieth birthday around the corner.

If he plays for ten more years, as he himself wished on Wednesday, he may morph into a Thriller style zombie on the lines of George Blanda—or at least Brett Favre.

Years ago novelist Tom Tryon (a former movie star) wrote his famous book called Fedora in which a stunning movie queen kept her looks and talents for forty years on the silver screen. Her beauty secret could be the one Tom has in the works for ten years from now. At that point, his youth and vigor will be astonishing, renewed, and a bizarre scandal if ever discovered.

We know the secret of Tom’s ten-year plan—and we aren’t talking, lest he put a curse on us.

NFL’s Cult of Personality

DATELINE: QB Turnstile

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With the latest infractions (driving drunk while beating his girlfriend, a combo deal) casting aspersions on Johnny Manziel, the NFL has gingerly trod again on one of its projects as a new generation of quarterback superstars. Yeah, it’s investigating reluctantly.

For years the NFL has been trying to make more monsters than Dr. Frankenstein. Their midway treatment of young QBs is tantamount to a publicity campaign for Edsels in the 1950s.

They have for several years been looking for a replacement superstar for Peyton Manning—and their prodigal son, Tom Brady. The NFL’s desperation has grown this season by leaps and interceptions: Manning appears to be sinking faster than the Titanic—and the NFL has decided to cast Tom Brady adrift.

So, popovers like Manziel have been touted as rising stars. Drunkards and wife beaters may also apply for a job with the NFL as a star-in-the-making.

For years the NFL tried to foist Tony Romo upon the world as a successor to Manning. Yet, after a couple of seasons without much to show, that horse seems beaten to a pulp. They have gone with Colin Kaepernick and Andrew Luck, neither of whom has shown much more than quick blooming promise and a dud bud.

We have seen them go through characters like Mike Vick (no longer to be called Michael as he has been rechristened as a new person). They have driven promise out of QBs like Mark Sanchez.  They seem unimpressed with Eli—always looking for the next Mr. Right as if he were a dating game contestant like Mr. Goodbar or Mr. Goodell.

The only legitimate figure of recent years has been Aaron Rogers, though the NFL has not fully embraced him for reasons of subterfuge at the Goodell offices. Russell Wilson has been sinking in the west. Instead, they try to uplift names like Dalton and Fitzpatrick, though the buying fans of DraftFan and DuelKings seem unwilling to part with their gambling winnings on these ringers.

In the meantime, the NFL continues to persecute Tom Brady as if trying to drive him into retirement before he can win another Super Bowl.

Videographer & Funnyman Julian Edelman Also Plays Ball

DATELINE: Smoothie King

Julian Edelman obviously wants to put sports humorists out of business.

As a secondary matter to his Patriotic vigor, he is an adept filmmaker. His latest effort is a parody of Star Wars, which he calls Star Pats. In it, the voice over identifies his “father”—Bill Belichick! It also notes his sister, and we see the back of Tom Brady walking the tunnel to the field. He seems to cast himself as some kind of Chewbacca, though that role ought to go to Gronk.

Hmmm. We are not sure whether Belichick is meant to be Han Solo or Darth Vader. And, Brady makes for a rather undainty princess. We leave the metapors to Edelman’s imagination. We will not follow in his footsteps (which may be a first for Ossurworld).

Often known his hijinks and lowjinks, a furtive groper of the first order in the lockerroom, we also were shocked, shocked, shocked, to see one of his bimbo pickups posting a photo of Julian in restful repose in bed after a vigorous game of bedposts.

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We cannot say whether we are more distressed than he has pursued a hobby of bimbos or that he made choice in the other direction of “either/or” matters of carnal knowledge.

Edelman is responsible for a number of byzantine videos on YouTube, including a few on “smoothies.” (Tom Brady doesn’t “have time” to do a best friend video, Edelman snorts.) Shane Vereen, however, asks him if that is a banana phone in his pocket. Punter Ryan Allen seems to take the butt of the joke role in all the vids.

Humor has gone to the slot receiving dogs.

Week 6 Comes to a Header Thanks to David Bowie

DATELINE: Indy, a Space Oddity

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The press called him robotic this week, and now the game at Indianapolis has answered the question.

The man who took Julian Edelman to the Montana mountains to experience bears while they practiced this summer showed how fearless he is. Wild horses, nor even wild Colts, could deter him from entering the arena of the enemy.

Tom Brady, automaton for seventeen years in Foxboro, now rivals the HAL series of 2001: A Space Odyssey. While he looks like a man who has been in suspended animation, he is simply football’s Dorian Gray. There is a portrait in his attic that has frayed around the edges.

Brady has outdone David Bowie’s Major Tom. He is the real Captain Tom.  Ground Control was a problem for the Patriots—and they seemed to have lost contact with Tom.

Brady is the man who always makes the grade—and the media knows whose Uggs he wears. Ground Control asked Tom to leave the pocket if he dared.

Tom informed Ground Control that he could not leave the pocket unscathed. As he stepped over the line, he felt like he was floating in a most peculiar way. Tom made the stars look different in the Coltish alignment. Bad Luck showed up only once for the Indy team.

The blue uniforms seemed far above the world—in their own quantum universe where fake punts are normal and surprising.

Major Tom stayed quite still. He knew which way to send these space cadets. Ground Control to Major Tom: the Indy Colts’ circuit is dead. There’s something wrong; this time Major Tom heard them loud and clear.

The Colts were sent reeling far above the Moon where no amount of compressed air could save them from the tin can offense they gave.

Ground Control to Major Tom: you are still on schedule for Super Bowl.