DATELINE: “Tom Who?”
Jimmy G and Julie E became the new monsters of the Patriot midway on Sunday night.
When everyone predicted the advent of a four-game slide into the oblivion of 2017, Bill Belichick’s Svengali act made the Broadway cliché a reality. When the star breaks a leg, the understudy goes on and sends the critics into seventh heaven.
We just hope the rise of Jimmy G is not the latest version of All About Eve. In that chestnut of Oscars and platitudes, Bette Davis’s understudy turns out to be an ungrateful snake in the grass.
For now, the new tandem of Julie E and Jimmy G may spawn rapsters to find new ways to say F-U to Roger Goodell. Patriot fans can lay off the medical marijuana and play DraftKings again.
Tom Brady has been reduced to passing lollipops to his billion-dollar wife. It just reminds us that Tom does not need the money or the aggravation of NFL football. He is married to a beautiful woman who intends to keep Tom “ready” for his resurrection.
In the meantime, the whiney Bills and Jets, letting everyone know they were the Eve Harrington of the NFL just laid an egg that makes Wall Street’s 1929 crash another day in the AFC East.
If your marquee players are sidelined, you should be at the local basilica, praying for Boston’s Jimmy G and Julie E to become the NFL version of Spahn and Sain. For Bill Belichick’s crew the prayers have created novenas envy among the NFL. Let it rain indeed on brave Boston. We’re singing a 2016 ditty, “Ding Dong, the Wicked Goodell is dead!”