Belichick’s Holiday TV Special Again This Year!

DATELINE:  God Bless Those Steelers Too

merry

Back like the Macy Parade or Peewee Herman for another holiday special, Bill Belichick will host the grandest Xmas party on the streaming web, as in previous jolly seasons.

Unfortunately, only those with access to the DarkNet will be able to download this journey to the dark-side of Christmas in Pittsburgh.

Past holiday specials have been about as much fun as watching Marley’s Ghost drag his chains.

However, Belichick’s Army of Zombie Fans cannot get enough of the best coach in the history of football singing his favorite Xmas carols, including “God Rest Ye Merry Steelers,”  and “Juggled Balls” with Gronk and Cooks.

This year will be even more special than his many past holiday treats.

Tom Brady will be on board for a stocking-stuffer not to be missed. He is expected to reveal that, as he grows younger every day, he has a portrait of Belichick in his attic that grows more sour-looking and ugly with age. You will enjoy it when he presents Belichick with a gift of a “Sock Slider,” for oldsters who need help putting on their shoes.

And you thought that was happening every game on the sidelines!

Another highlight of this year’s holiday show will be when Gronk puts Coach Belichick on his back and they run around the endzone, doing a turkey trot to celebrate the winning touchdown.

It has been a long hard audition this season to find whether the elves, Amendola and Edelman, will double as Tiny Tim. Giving them a hard run for the job is Matthew Slater who has been practicing his “God bless us everyone” ad nauseum.

Another annual moment of levity shall be when owner Mr. Robert Kraft opens his gifts to discover a lifetime supply of dress shirts with different color collars to go with his only white blouse. Some think Roger Goodell will re-gift Kraft with a draft pick.

Guest appearances by Roger Goodell and Jerry Jones are expected as players will try to dunk them into a big watertank by tossing footballs at them from a kneeling position.

President Trump will lie about producing the show and tweet that he was going to be extra special guest of the year, but turned them down. He will then fire Tom Brady.

Marshawn Lynch is expected to spoil the big holiday eggnog when he does a Mexican hat-dance with Belichick, and it brings a thunderstorm over Mexico City.

NFL Network, Roku, Apple TV, and Brit Box are clamoring for exclusive rights to show this annual extravaganza of joy and end-zone celebrations.

Don’t miss this once-in-a-lifetime, annual tradition (again).

 

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To Goggle or Not to Goggle, Jaylen Brown!

DATELINE:  Jaylen’s Wear Daily Reports

 clark kent

Jaylen Brown’s eyes don’t have it. Goggles don’t make his brown eyes blue. Goggles have given him a headache and a black eye in the fashion world.

Brown’s fashionplate goggles have bitten the dust in Jaylen’s locker. We are back to contact lenses, limited to two to three hours per day. Jaylen has decided those hours are game time.

Apparently the intellectual look is not the best way to see eye to eye with the basketball. The Brown Green Lantern has tried three options now, and finds he prefers contact lenses, no matter how encrusted his eyelids may become after inflammation.

We first recommended cleaning the lenses regularly, or perhaps wearing a new, fresh pair of eyeballs. That can only occur after the infection heals.

Jaylen, a 21 year old smarty pants, is worried about the windows to his soul. If you look at those those big brown panes, you may see a young man in pains.

At first he claimed the goggles were constrictive, or perhaps he simply was intolerant about giving them a chance. Then he had a second pair made, that were too tight around his egghead. Loose straps mean more traps.

He ripped off the goggles and played with bad eyesight for most of his worst game of the season. It seems he could not see much—his vision being a big blur without corrective lenses.

Yes, we recommend playing with corrected vision, Jaylen. He barely could see the hoop the other day when he threw out all lens assistance.

Old habits die hard, and contact lenses are here to stay. If Jaylen cannot accept goggles, we won’t judge him too harshly. Even the Celtics Yoda, Tommy Heinsohn, said that Jaylen Brown played better without goggles.

The Green Lantern of Brown has bats in his belfry and a pointed noggin when it comes to the notions counter of goggles-to-wear. He has batted his big beautiful eyes once too often.

Fashion and taste are all important in basketball, if you ask the young man who likes to wear short shorts against the grain of fellow players.  Jaylen has so far resisted the urge to ask the advice of Jayson Tatum, his nemesis.

Open Season on Trump

DATELINE: A Cartoon President

 

bugs & daffy

On those old Warner Bros. cartoons, Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck can hide with alacrity from Elmer Fudd once hunting season was open. They always led the old fool on a merry chase.

Trump is about one cut below Wile E. Coyote.

With the defeat of Roy Moore, Neanderthal candidate for US Senate, we now have a call to hounds.  Hunting season is open now on the biggest game, the most dangerous game–and the fox in question is hiding in the White House.

Sound the trumpets. Mount the steeds. They’re off.

Today Open Season has begun on another cartoon character named Donald Trump. Yes, they are going to start to come after him ruthlessly. The ignominious defeat of Judge Roy Beanbag Moore, notable child molester and poster boy for chasing little girls, is the sign post and clarion call to remove Trump from office.

If Trump has any awareness, he knows that his Exit is up ahead on the Twilight Zone highway.

The cartoon will begin with calls for Trump to resign. It will begin with Republicans challenging him with no fear. It will continue with others in line after the benighted moron of Rex Tillerson. It will continue with women marching to dump Trump.

The clock is tolling—and it is tolling for you, Mr. Trump.

We suspect President Trump is no Bugs Bunny (not quick enough mentally or physically).  He will have a hard time hiding in and the hunters will soon close in by following the trail of fast food cartons for McD Fries.

Trump’s medical examination next month, with its promised release of every detail, will provide a grand opening for the president to resign– owing to health issues.  No one will say openly that it’s mental health at issue, but they don’t call him Daffy Duck & Dodge Trump for nothing.

 

 

 

 

 

Is This the End of Tom Brady?

DATELINE: One Bad Game Spoils the Barrel of Apples

botox forever

 We don’t want to be the last ones on the bandwagon. So, here goes….

On Monday night against in Miami Dolphins, the fans of Tom Brady had their first ugly glimpse into the future. The crystal ball may be more cracked than a mirror in Brady’s den.

The TB12 Method has failed us!

If you wondered what an aging Tom Brady looks like in terms of football success, you saw it first hand in the catastrophic loss to the Dolphins on Monday night. It looked a bit like Death on Miami Beach. He could not convert a third down and his passes never reached their mark.

Back in the day when Brett Favre started to go sour, we believe something similar happened.

Is anyone thinking that Brady can age overnight like a ripe melon? At what point does the milk in your refrigerator actually begin to curdle?

Have we reached the curdling point of Brady?

In case you’re wondering about what happens when the Belichick Empire falls, Jimmy G is on the other side of the country on the West Coast, winning games there for the foreseeable future. The man sitting next to Brady is aging Brian Hoyer who couldn’t cut it as a starter on other teams. And, the future is Tom, whether he has lost the directions to the Fountain of Youth, or not.

If age has suddenly caught up with Brady and his magic elixir has run out, the season will be going downhill rapidly. We should remember that even the unsinkable Titanic went down in two hours.

 

 

Jaylen Brown’s 3-D Vision

DATELINE: Celtics Find Clark Kent in Green Lantern

clark kent

Don the Goggles!  He doesn’t need a cape. And you can no longer spit in his eye.

Jaylen Brown may have had an eye infection from his contact lenses this week. However, his solution is not just sterilized: it’s made of plexiglass.

Yes, Jaylen has found his personality. He will henceforth wear goggles. This gives him an edge as an all-star and Celtics legend.

The man who wouldn’t be photographed in glasses will now appear in wrap-around goggles. Brown insists he can see better than ever. In fact, the goggles give him “3-D vision,” in his own words.

Heavens, and we thought all of us had 3-D vision, born with at least one superhuman quality.

This new asset of Jaylen may not be confused with X-ray vision or infra-red vision, or other superhero attributes.

Whatever, Jaylen played like Superman in his new regalia. If Kyrie can wear a clear mask, then Jaylen does one better than superstars of yore in basketball.

Yes, Brown has channeled his inner Kareem Abdul Jabbar.

In his new personae as The Celtics Green Lantern, it would seem that Brown may look more like Sponge Bob than Kareem. He may have more ability to see than Madame Acardi facing Blithe Spirit.

Whether the goggles give him a true extra set of eyes remains to be seen.

Move over, Clark Kent. The intellectual Brown now appears to be smarter than Smart and flashier than Beyonce.

Will the bespectacled Brown take the permanent role of superhero with the brown eyes under glass?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trump, Moore Chased by Frankenstein Monster

 

Galapagos Affair: 1930s Murder Mystery

DATELINE:  Add a Fake Baroness to a Gilligan’s Island Scenario

 Galapagos Affair

Dora & Dr. Ritter, suspects or victims?

When the film uses the tag: “Darwin meets Hitchcock…,” we are totally hooked instantly. Yes, this is a true 1930s murder mystery that would shock Hercule Poirot and confound Sherlock Holmes.

In 1929, Floreanana, Galapagos, was an uninhabited island where B. Traven, Greta Garbo, and J.D. Salinger would have been happy. A German doctor, Friedrich Ritter and his lover Dore Strauch settled there 60 miles from another human being. This is what Herman Melville called the Enchanted Islands, but where ancient tortoises put a curse on visitors.

Within a few years the island was colonized by a middle-class German family named Wittner—and then a colorful woman who called herself a Baroness Eloise von Wagner with her “two husbands.” She claimed imperiously that she planned to build a hotel on the island for American millionaires—which did not go over well with the other four adult residents. No one owned any of it, but the territorial governor gave the Baroness miles of prime land for her project.

When these people took up life in the Edenic locale, they went slightly mad (or likely were already). This documentary uses extraordinary footage—and the brilliant voice-over of Cate Blanchett—to show how the alleged Baroness chose to become queen of her domain, to the point of killing anyone who trespassed on her personal paradise.

She even made a ridiculous movie on location in 1934, which gives this documentary some wildly odd footage of all involved.

With the unwieldy title of The Galapagos Affair: Satan Came to Eden, you have a startling and hypnotic documentary about lunacy in the world that Charles Darwin found a pristine lab of genetic development.

Newspaper headlines and docu-footage make this film a marvel of truth and sensational history. Who killed whom?  Everyone has a theory, but the Baroness and one husband disappeared, another husband met a foul end, and Dr. Ritter seems to have been poisoned.

Within a few years the original group was cut down by 2/3 by suspicious deaths. Who done it?  We defy you to figure it out from this marvelous documentary.

Hardy Boys 2: Ghost Farm Mystery, 1957

DATELINE:  Disney Fails Second Time Around

still wonderful

Tim Considine & Tommy Kirk epitomize sibling rivalry.

In 1957 Disney decided to do a second series of Hardy Boys episodes. With two extremely popular young stars lighting up the big screen (Tommy Kirk and Tim Considine would be in the Absent-Minded Professor, The Shaggy Dog, Old Yeller, Swiss Family Robinson, etc.), the two young stars signed on for another mystery.

They were growing more adolescent (and admitted it in a prologue that was a long preview of the upcoming shows), but that only made them more appealing to young fans. The second series would be called The Mystery of Ghost Farm.  Don’t look for it among the 60 or so stories of the canon of Hardy Boys books because it isn’t there.

Disney was growing as much as its stars—and now they found their own formula for stories was better controlled by something original. As a consequence, the second series borders on the overly cute use of standard Disney tricks (like irksome farm animals) and a completely non-scary ghost.

The boys were catnip to young girls—and Considine was allowed to be the Romeo (even accused of being as much by Kirk as his younger, jealous brother). They even wrestle on the ground after Frank calls Joe “stupid,” once too often.

Disney also brought back a couple of actors from the first year. Florenz Ames, aka crazy old Applegate, returned for a small part as an advisor to the young detectives. They also brought in Andy Clyde as another crazy old man. Sarah Shelby as Auntie Gertrude had a larger role this time around, as did Carol Ann Campbell as Iola, Joe Hardy’s female nemesis (never girlfriend), much to Joe Hardy’s dismay. Russ Conway as the boys’ father found his role much diminished.

The second show had to be the last because the stars were moving on to the bigger careers. Tommy Kirk was especially going big, whereas Considine was settling into a steady hit TV show (My Three Sons and later wound up being slapped silly by George C. Scott in Patton).

The series also went short and cheap on episodes, down to 13, as if the boys had only limited time to film the new season with so many projects beckoning them elsewhere. The writing is slipshod and the mystery is moribund, as if this production couldn’t be done fast enough.

Yet, we are lucky to have them again as perfectly matched brothers, no matter that the story and mystery are less compelling the second time around.

Trump, Moore Chased by Frankenstein Monster

DATELINE:  Trump Rally at Castle Frankenstein

 trump rally

Called Frankenstein by Trump, Al Franken is now going to run amok in the world of sexual harassment. The monster will turn on the Republicans.

A confused mob once gathered outside the Castle Frankenstein. They look suspiciously like Trump rally supporters who are confused by sexual harassment charges.

Franken‘s resignation is the worst possible news for Trump and his senatorial selection, Roy Moore.

By resigning, Al Franken has the sweet revenge of saying he is leaving the Senate to make America great again.

In the moment Trump or any Republican criticizes or celebrates Franken‘s resignation, he is dead in the water. After the sexual harassment charges against Trump and Moore, those two political hacks come across as lesser men for not having the integrity to resign, let alone offer a mea culpa.

As a result, you may have noticed that President Trump has stopped tweeting about Frankenstein. The monster has him by the throat. The first thing Trump says about it may be the last.

The worm has not yet turned on Trump. It will. He, McConnell, Hatch, and other senators who allow child molesters into the Senate for political purposes and expediency are hypocrites of the first-order without any redeeming morality as a shield.

Women who continue to support these men are either mentally ill or so cowed by their low self-esteem that they have no respect for honesty.

Trump created a Frankenstein Monster and now it is about to throttle him.

Private Files of J. Edgar Hoover

DATELINE: 1977 A-I Grand Production

 

Broderick Crawford Crawford as Hoover

If Director Hoover were still running the FBI, you know the shenanigans at the White House and during the Trump campaign would be dead in their tracks.

The Private Files of J.Edgar Hoover, 1977’s film by Larry Cohen is still surprisingly relevant today: from Hoover’s dealings with immigrants, terrorists, and campaign laundering of money. You might be amused to hear that Hoover was on the side of right, according to this marvelous little film. In many ways it is more amusing than Eastwood’s version.

Young Hoover is played by James Wainwright—and his best friend is his mother, actress June Havoc in a cameo. The best of the stunning cast includes Jose Ferrer as a dubious underling to Hoover. However, the G-Man couple of the century, Hoover and Clyde Tolson, are played by Broderick Crawford and Dan Dailey, no strangers to whispers and innuendos themselves.

Hoover must deal with Franklin Roosevelt (Howard da Silva) and Bobby Kennedy (Michael Parks).  AG Kennedy especially tried to drive Hoover to retirement with great disrespect, but Hoover was a wily old fox. He handled Kennedy and seemed ready to blackmail Martin Luther King (Raymond St. Jacques).

If you like hooting through a movie, this old American International flick has gunfights with Dillinger and mobsters, and TWA hijackers.

The rumors that Tolson and Hoover were a romantic couple is among the highlights of the film, hinting they might have been brave pioneers in gay rights, no less. However, there is no scene of Edgar in a dress.  Sorry.  All this is secondary to a grandiose performance by the never-shy Broderick Crawford as the Top Cop (never saying 10-4) and his aide-de-camp Dan Dailey.

His secret files kept many people in their place. He had dirt on everyone over 50 years and managed to convince Lyndon Johnson (Andrew Duggan) to extend the retirement age to accommodate the FBI oldster.

More salacious info would come out after the making of this film, but this semi-forgotten movie will do as a bang-up tribute to Edgar.

 

Another NFL/Media Conspiracy on Our Reserved Seats

DATELINE:  NFL Flies By Seats of Stadium

Who's There?AP/Chiu

 

As we come down to the home-stretch of the NFL season of 2017, there is an obvious conspiracy afoot, and aseat.

The networks (both cable and airtime) have joined the NFL in deceiving the viewing public.

Though our Commander-in-Chief thinks he is smartly pointing out that football ratings are down because of kneeling football players, he once again has missed the key point:  there are fewer people at the actual games. The seats are empty.

Where once there were screaming throngs and sell-outs at every game across the NFL, there are now many teams faced with the embarrassing lack of din from supporting fans. The lung power of screams of support have turned to boo-bird calls—but the only way to make crowd noise is to fill the stadium with fake sounds.

Now, New England fans may not know what we are talking about. Their stadium at Foxboro is always filled. Indeed, Pat fans know no decline in support. They now are showing up at visiting stadiums where the home crowd is supporting the visiting Patriots. No wonder opponent team owners salivate when the Pats show up: it’s guaranteed revenue. Empty seats disappear.

No wonder the owners are happily taking their teams abroad. In London or Mexico City, language is no barrier to paying fans filling up every seat.

NFL Red Zone doesn’t have to avoid crowd shots of the stadium in a foreign land. Just the needed field goal kicks show the ball flying over empty seats as it hits the net for 3 points. The visual impact is that the viewers realize they are more alone than you might have thought.

Whether Trump is right that the politics of players and the national anthem issue have driven away fans is debatable. Perhaps we are just saturated by games of no importance, and seats of great cost.

Your owner greed has cast them into their own Twilight Zone of Red Zone: charging exorbitant prices for a day at the game has now created the effect of Roman emperors sitting in their luxury boxes watching the peons who paid good money for little entertainment.

Don’t get us started on the camera shots of owners, respectfully called “Mr.” billionaire by fawning broadcasters. That’s a conspiracy for another day.

 

 

New Book of Movie & TV Reviews

 “A compendium of enormous balderdash and overwrought and underthought insights!”

Mal Tempo, Long Time Ago book consultant

                                                    kindleredcarpet

If you enjoy Ossurworld’s movie and television reviews, with their unique and odd insights into what’s really happening in your favorite movies, then you are in luck! 

Red Carpet Tickets: Movie & TV Reviews collects the best of the blog reports in one place for easy access and reading.

The books is available for smarter readers, both in e-book and print formats, from Amazon.

If you want the perfect time-killer, Red Carpet Tickets is your ticket to ride. 

Ossurworld’s blogs on movies (& TV streams) select only films that you can and should devote time to watching. Bad films are rarely considered for examination. Bloated budgets, ridiculous acting, and skimpy budgets, will not hurt a film’s chances if something intelligent is presented. Ossurworld will let you know.

You can find Ossurworld’s new book online by simply clicking on this blue highlight!

Red Carpet Tickets: Movie & TV Reviews.  (This blog is a self-serving, commercial, and otherwise blatant attempt to win your appreciation of our mini-labors of Hercules.)

Damn Patriots, Reversal on Damn Yankees!

DATELINE:  Calling Mr. Applegate for Mercy

memories

Lola never wanted this.

If you are one of those who believe the Patriots now have a clear shot directly to the Super Bowl, having a schedule of pabulum ahead, you may have missed some key curses.

Tom Brady’s smashed mirror struck again after the most recent victory.

This time, rugby star Nate Ebner gave it his all on a trick play, perhaps the best of his career, and went immediately to the Injured Reserve list. He did not even pass Go to collect his accolades.

Second, the man who jumped out of Frostbite Falls with a scheduled surgery to play two games for the Patriots, Martellus Bennett seems to have not escaped the fickle finger of fate after all. He too is now headed for surgery on the IR.

What do we have here? More next man up and down?

We are holding our breath and crossing our fingers. This seems like the work of Tom Brady’s blatant disregard for superstition during the off-season. We have seen a steady diet of stars gone for the year: Edelman, Hightower, and now Ebner and Bennett.

We trust that Tom Brady’s handlers are keeping him away from ladders and mirrors.

We applied the title of Agatha Christie’s amusing mystery tale to the Boston Celtics a few weeks ago, calling them the latest incarnation of And Then There Were None, as each star on their little band of teammates bit the dust.

Now, with more players, and more injuries, the Patriots have turned into Ten Little Indians—diminishing returns. It’s enough to make you feel that some sinister force, like Roger Goodell, has caused demonic incantations to run amok.

We were reserving our voodoo curses for Trump after sending Haitians back to their cursed isle, but perhaps someone with higher powers has it in for the Pats.

We recall the old tale, Damn Yankees, as an explanation for the baseball dynasty. Shall we start singing “Whatever Lola Wants” to explain this turn of events?

And then there were no Patriots left to play in a Super Bowl. Have mercy, Mr. Applegate.

Thanks, Tom, for the broken mirror.

Gronk & Turkey in the Straw

DATELINE: Too Many Cooks

 photo by Matt Stonephoto by Matt Stone

As rare as a 1916 Mercury-D dime, the Patriots had an impromptu TD celebration.  And, the star of the show was the only man who would dare to stand up to Head Coach Bill Belichick:  no, not Tom Brady.

It was the inimitable Gronk. He usually spikes the ball with great elan. We have been in awe of the fact that for his entire career, he is the only Patriot with the chutzpah to commit such an act within the view of the Scrooge-like coach.

The NFL has now allowed hare-brained celebrations in the endzone after scoring. We have seen leap frog played. We have seen Oddsmell Beckham doing his dog duty impression. However, no Patriot dared to speak the love of celebration.

We must call attention to the Turkey Trot of Brandin Cooks, who jumped on Gronk’s back and rode the Big Pony back to the sidelines in celebration. We swear that Cooks has a 26-inch waist and weighs less than 185 pounds. For Gronk it was like picking up one of those Victoria Secret models for a magazine cover.

You may have missed Gronk being ridden like Seabiscuit by Brandin Cooks, but Bill Belichick emerged like Godzilla from the depths to spit fire over this so-called celebration.

Since Brady never made him those biscuits for Thanksgiving, Gronk gave us his own version of The Original Biscuit Eater.

Alas, after the game Gronk was not allowed to talk about his venture into the realm of happy feet.  In fact, he admitted that the man who won’t allow office parties at Xmas with x’s and o’s, yelled at Gronk for his display

Don’t expect Gronk to join in any reindeer games this season. He won’t even be allowed to give thanks for a touchdown.

Not only was his nose red after the celebration, but his entire face was red. All the better to see inside the dark and gloomy dog house that Coach Belichick built for such players who go about with a Merry TD on their lips.

If Belichick had his way, such players would be buried in the endzone like Jimmy Hoffa, in cement overshoes up to his eyeballs.

So, the Turkey Trot of Gronk was not cooked up by Cooks in the backroom of the holiday luncheonette. It was spontaneous, but nevertheless, it was verboten.

Media Nitwit Claims Patriots ‘Too Boring’

 DATELINE:  Winning is Tough, Dumb Media is Tougher

dumbass felger Nameless Dumbass

Led by ubiquitous idiot Mike Felger, Boston’s version of a sports Trump, a number of media sensation-seekers are trolling the notion that the New England Patriots are boring.

Yes, all those victories piling up are sending people off to their nap-time a tad too early to suit radio/TV bombastic bonehead Mike Felger.

You have to turn to Soren Kierkegaard for an answer: boredom is a disease of the sexually maladjusted, according to the great philosopher of Superman theory.

We humbly ask Boston fans if the Murderers’ Row of the New York Yankees was boring?

Were Red Auerbach’s basketball champions for a dozen years too boring for the Bean Town?

Was Rocky Marciano too boring because he fought a bum of the month during his reign as champ?

Was Sandy Koufax too boring with all those strike-outs game after game?

The likelihood of danger and mystery in a sports-game renders it a gamble every time and every play. You could have disaster around the cornerback. Each week we see stars go down for the count: and not everyone can manage to send the next man up to stardom. How does that create boredom?

On and on we go with media desperation.

For those bored by the recent Celtics winning streak of 16, it ended—and now the Chicken Little types will find doom and damnation on the parquet. Even the Celtics coach called their winning streak a “mirage.”

We recognize that there is much sports airtime to fill on endless sports networks, but give us a break, please.

We are not bored by experts or excellence. Mike Felger is neither expert, nor excellent—and he is on the cusp of being boring to himself.

Keep the NFL Out of Mexico!

 DATELINE: Belichick’s Complaint

Belichick

It was bound to happen after a grueling jet lag victory in Mexico City. The Head Coach of the Patriots, Swami Belichick, found his tongue. We need a wall to keep the NFL out of Mexico.

On a local radio show, upon his return from south of the border, he fired off that it was a long trip and a logistical nightmare, requiring too much manpower—and blatantly unfair to players.

In Oakland, the losers of the game, they dealt with jet lag from Mexico by firing their defensive coordinator. To each his own.

However, implicit in Belichick’s harangue was the fact that the NFL stacked the deck against his championship team. It’s done in the name of parity: you make sure every disadvantage in Roger Goodell’s arsenal is dumped on the best team in the NFL this century—from Deflategate fake news to Montezuma’s Revenge.

Belichick also threw into the mix that they were lucky there were no earthquakes during the game or aftershocks. We had noted earlier in the year that the NFL made no comment after the terrible, tragic earthquake about sending a team into the breach, ready or not.

It is reminiscent of the Trump administration returning temporary immigrant visitors back into places unprepared to house them.

Critics jumped all over Belichick for his ignorance, though we had no problem with saying that a trip to Mexico, with its thin air, was not helpful in preparing for the next game up.

Indeed, Belichick referenced Monday night games as having a similar jet lag issue when travel required cross-country trips. We’d have thrown in Thursday night games as being far worse.

Accusers have a bad habit in this country of being disbelieved and mistrusted. When Belichick accuses the NFL of their bad decisions, it is reminiscent of Alabama candidates for the Senate: as Mr. Trump would tell us, nothing is proven about accusations while he cloaks himself in the flag attacking football players who protest their treatment at the hands of nutcases.

But we digress again: sports is like that in the world of politics. Mexico ought to build a wall to keep out the NFL.