DATELINE: Gost or Ghost?
We’re on to Cincinnati. The only problem is that the Patriots are not going to Cincinnati. The Bengal lancers are coming here to Foxboro.
For Patriot fans, it’s like Caligula reading in the programme that he’s on to the lions. No, not those in Detroit. The lions come to Caligula.
Local media are celebrating this occasion as if Guy Fawkes succeeded in blowing up Parliament.
The Bengals can’t change their spots for this game. And, they are on the spot for sure. What? You mean they prefer pinstripes. Who do they think they are? The Yankees?
If the lowly Bengals garner any sympathy, it is for being brave as they are thrown across the sacrificial altar before having their heart ripped out or head chopped off.
No one gives them much of a chance against the Tom-Brady-Jack-the-Ripper-Slash-and-Smash-the-NFL World Tour.
We almost feel sorry for the Bengalese, except for the dictum that on any given Sunday anyone can win. We feel that complacency may be playing on the wrong side of the gridiron this week, though we are sure the vigilant Swami Bill Belichick won’t let his team forget their mission, Mr. Phelps.
No, if you want to feel sorry for anyone, it’s probably Stephen Gostkowsky, one-time perfect kicker for eleven seasons and replacement for Tom Brady’s kicking counterpart—the ageless Adam Vinatieri.
The man replaced and sent into Indianapolis exile by Bill Belichick is still kicking like a chorus girl. Gostkowsky has started to miss—and the traveling guillotine show of Darth Belichick may make the Sunday afternoon more ghoulish than the Marquis de Sade passing judgment on field goals.