Perennial Winner’s View from Foxboro

DATELINE: Thumbs Irrelevant

 Michigan J. Frog

A funny thing happened on the way to the Super Bowl for the Patriots.  It wasn’t Tom’s thumb that was the problem. It was a tough bunch of Jaguars.  It started to look like James Michael Curley’s Last Hurrah—but hold on, fans.

No one in New England was laughing in the fourth quarter when Danny Amendola pulled off his patented Julian Edelman imitation. For a while, the alleged laughingstock named Blake Bortles looked like Joe Montana.

Yes, Blake’s advisor in California for throwing the ball is former Red Sox pitcher Tom House.

Yes, Jaylen Brown of the Celtics went rogue and backed the Jaguars over his Boston fan base because his cousin A.J. Bouye is their enforcer.

Dion Lewis saved the last dance for a fumble, but recovered one last time.

Waiting till next year may not be a good option:  Brady’s thumb won’t be needed for hitching a ride out of Foxboro, and the two coordinators, Matt Patricia and Josh McDaniels, will not hit the road, moving on to other clubs, for a few more weeks and one more big game in Minnesota.

In the end, Belichick and Brady embraced. Oh, yes, there will be a meeting of the minds of Belichick, Brady, and Kraft as they try to end a political stalemate that may have contributed to ill-feelings and ill-intentions. But that will be after they win another Super Bowl and all will be forgiven.

The Patriots found a new MVP in Danny Amendola replacing Julian Edelman with his last-minute heroics this time. Gronk was concussed and out for the end again.

Brady stalked the sidelines when he was not on the field, unlike any game of the season heretofore.

Maybe he was pondering the ratings for his Facebook TV series as bombing unless he pulled the game out of the hopper.

Time is cruel, and next year may be less  than this year, but for now, the Patriots are on top of the world, Ma.

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Heads Up, Tails Down: Pats & Celts

DATELINE:  Twilight Zone Meets Jaws

With an ice storm on the horizon in Boston, the two championship franchises, the Celtics and the Patriots, were also out of town and out of luck. Every great team has its up and downs.

After our ill-timed braggadocio, life gave us a cold slap in the face with ice pellets. Alas, it was too cold to make lemonade out of the fiasco that befell the Patriots and Celtics on Monday night.

We could not imagine these were the same teams that had been so impressive game after game. What on earth happened to the bright lights?

Miami and Chicago laid the expected victors a harsh dose of reality. No one is perfect, not even Bill Belichick or Brad Stevens.

If ever there was a night for Tom Brady to yell at Josh McDaniels this was it. If ever there was a night for Jaylen Brown to keep wearing his goggles, this was it.

Alas, Brown discarded his glasses and Tom Brady made nice with Josh.

When Jayson Tatum is unable to hit three-pointers and Tom Brady throws an interception and only has a handful of passing yards in the first half, you have crossed through the looking glass. In this case, it’s the mirror Tom Brady broke.

The Chicago Bulls are the worst team in the NBA, and the Miami Dolphins are the toughest opponents the Pats ever face in Miami. Brady has his worst record in 18 years against the Dolphins.

We have to admit the Patriots were without Gronk, who was suspended, and the Celts were without Kyrie Irving who needed some rest.

No matter where Boston fans turned, they were on the edge of the Outer Limits.

Both teams, known for their defensive finesse, showed it wasn’t their night. It was reminiscent of On the Waterfront, when Brando’s boxer complained his brother told him to lose, “It wasn’t my night!”

At half-time we were ready to become fair weather fans for our two teams.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Monday Night Football, Basketball, and Ancient Aliens

Monday Night Football, Basketball, and Ancient Aliens

 DATELINE: Boston’s Conundrum

Green Hornet & Lantern Greens: Hornet & Lantern

For the better part of a decade, there has been no such creature as a head-to-head match-up of the Boston Celtics and the New England Patriots.

It was no contest.  We could plead nolo contendre with gay abandon.

If the two franchises were playing in the same small timeframe, without question, the attention went directly to Belichick, Brady, and their imitation of 1950s-60s Celtics as a football franchise.

Perhaps in some future date the Patriots will have 17 championships and Bill Belichick and Red Auerbach will march, arm in arm, into New England mythology. You will see Tom Brady and Bill Russell matching ring for ring on their fingers.

However, this week in Boston, the conundrum rises anew: the Pats are playing on Monday night, and so are the newly rejuvenated Celtics. Normally, Patriots are sitting court-side at the Celtics game—but both teams are on the road and playing simultaneously.

Nineteen-year old shooter Jayson Tatum is leading the league in three-point shooting. We haven’t seen a 19-year old with this kind of dead eye since Billy the Kid shot up the New Mexico league in 1880.

Brady is twice as old as Tatum, but together they could be an epoch of victors lasting half a century. If Jayson Tatum plays until the mid-2040s, he may be retiring at the same age as Tom.

We are not sure whether we will be around for the accolades and retirement ceremony, but it is possible.

Hardly a man is now alive who saw Babe Ruth pitch for the Red Sox, but we are the recipient of modern medical miracles already.

So, whom will you watch on Monday night?

Fortunately, the new age of technology allows us to put the Patriots on our tablet and the Celtics on our smartphone—and leave our other attention to a new movie on UFOs on cable.

Life is grand nowadays. We are riding in the chariots of the gods.

 

 

 

 

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.

 

 

Trump’s Blatant Racism

DATELINE: Inexcusable Lapses of Judgment

Michigan J. Frog

If you need more than one example to prove that Trump is a fetid racist (on top of a dozen past examples), we have compiled a list of the latest evidence that Donald Trump is unfit to be president of the United States.

He is a blatant and unremitting in his bile. Perhaps he is not a white supremacist, as that entails belonging to a set of social pairings that he has avoided.  However, he has shown a disdain for anyone who happens to be a person of color. We will ignore all his obsessive, continuous, illogical attacks on Barack Obama.

Case in point number one: this week he managed to show his lack of humanity (perhaps another disqualifying characteristic) by suggesting he should have let three college basketball players rot in a Chinese jail for ten years because no one wants to kiss the ring of the reigning monarch.

On top of that, he took on the notorious imbecile LaVar Ball in a battle of twitter -tweetie bird brains. Suffice it to say, there is no honor in bashing LaVar Ball. It’s like kicking a dog with three legs. If Trump wanted to illustrate that he is a vile human being, comments such as this do it.

Oh, please, to those who cry it’s only Twitter. It creates a social condition among the uneducated and dumb supporters of racist notions

Next, Trump is calling for the complete suspension of Dallas Cowboy player Marshawn Lynch. Here is another least popular figure in sports who happens to be black. Lynch sat in Mexico City during the American national anthem, but stood for the Mexican anthem. He hardly seemed to be protesting much of anything. Another imbecile to equal Trump’s IQ on patriotism.

And, finally, there is Steph Curry, a basketball champion who was disinvited from the White House for not supporting Trump. Some have defended Trump by saying that the President did not even realize Curry is “high yellow” (a light-skinned black person).

The only high yellow Trump approves is in in his hair and the streak running down his back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fill in the Blanks for “P***y”

 DATELINE:  Vocabulary Lesson for Jerry Jones & Media

3some

This week Jerry Jones has tested our ability to play both Scrabble and do crossword puzzles. The owner of the Dallas Cowboys, mired deeply in a feud with Roger Goodell, reportedly called fellow owner Robert Kraft a mysterious name in regard to the Patriots owner’s inability to stand up to Goodell on Deflategate.

The media has given us a maddening clue by leaving out key letters of the word.

The media has also plastered the word over the airwaves, cable wires, and water-cooler discussions for men who live dangerously around women nowadays.  For those who are fans of President Trump, the word may ring familiar, as he used the epithet (if that’s what it is) during his campaign against women.

In case you are wondering what the cryptic word is, we have gone to our cryptologist’s handbook to discern “P—y.”

In some more colorful stories the spelling is “p***y.”  We always opt for the asterisk over the hyphen as part of our training as a literary critic.

We didn’t have to run to our crossword puzzle dictionary for the Sunday New York Times to be able to figure out what Jerry Jones and President Trump have said.  The options are clear.

It is likely that Mr. Jones called Kraft “pasty.” This is ironical, if only because Jones is even more sun-deprived than Kraft, playing as it were mostly indoors at his stadium. We think Kraft is fairly pasty on his own too.

Another option is “puffy.”  We have heard Sean Combs has discarded this sobriquet lately—and it is available to be put on Kraft who takes a paternal interest in his players, hence “Puffy Daddy.”

However, we realize soon enough that the best likelihood is another word: “Putty.”  Yes, Kraft was putty in the hands of Goodell, and is pliable to the whims of the fans.

You say tomato, and we say “tomahto.” You say “P***y” and we say, “Putty.”  Let’s call the whole thing off before our vocabulary descends into the tone-deaf style of NFL fans in general.

Hernandez: The Brain That Would Not Die

DATELINE: Examining Aaron’s Brain

brain slices

Like a murderous zombie, Aaron Hernandez comes back repeatedly from death.

The latest news story deals with the findings of another pathologist Dr. Anne McKee, head of the Boston University CTE Center, who makes the case that the damage done to the New England football player by repeated concussions is enough to create a Frankenstein’s Monster.

The apparent shrunken and withered frontal lobes to his brain were even worse than originally feared. They had never seen anything quite like it in the brain of a 27-year old physically healthy young man.

There is no doubt that Aaron Hernandez had a magnificent body, well-taken care of. He had no idea that it encased the worst case of damaged goods you could find in the NFL.

Roger Goodell and his partners in crime ought to be cringing.

When doctors reveal it is the most severe trauma they’ve ever seen, you have reason to be freaked out. Those three murders may well have been the result of a mind that had no control over his impulses. He could not make decisions in any normal manner. He suffered a lack of judgment that had nothing to do with his intelligence.

Knowing he felt smart, Hernandez must have been repeatedly puzzled and baffled by his own twisted logic. Doctors insist they have never seen such a condition in anyone under 46 years of age. That is scary.

The doctor said: “…we can say collectively, in our collective experience, that individuals with CTE, and CTE of this severity, have difficulty with impulse control, decision-making, inhibition of impulses for aggression, emotional volatility, rage behaviors.

In other words, he was a perfect Type A personality for the NFL. He had the right genetic marker to make him vulnerable to the condition.

Researchers believe he had deteriorated to the level of someone in his 60s, “the most severe case they had ever seen in someone Aaron’s age.”

It makes you wonder what they might have found in the brains of Billy the Kid, Jack the Ripper or Lizzie Borden.

Dare we say it?  We feel sorry for poor Aaron Hernandez.

 

 

 

Tom Brady Picking Up Pieces

DATELINE:  Busted Mirror Antics

 off off-season Read All About It! Most Off Off-Season Ever!

Not since Agatha Christie’s the Mirror Cracked from Side to Side, has there been as much ugliness in a looking glass. We would never accuse Tom Brady of being Snow White’s Nasty Queen, but if you ask Alice, Tom has fallen through the mirror to the other side.

Yep, Tom Brady is looking into that mirror every day now and asking: “Why am I only fair? I don’t want to be the fairest of them all. I want to be champeen of the world.”

Since Tom took a hammer to his vanity mirror just a few short months ago, he has been walking like a man without a care in the world. In some circles, it’s called whistling past the graveyard.

That’s despite the fact that he keeps getting hit in the head every week multiple times, thanks to his porous offensive line. Blame the shattered mirror of his own making.

The main victims of his smashed mirror are his supporting players, dropping like flies.

Yes, #12 has cursed his entire team, even though he seems to be Teflon Tom.

The latest victim of the busted mirror: Dont’a Hightower will be out the rest of the season after surgery on his pectoral muscle.  The man with an accent mark immersed in his first name is a staple of the defense. Replacing him will not be easy. Next man up will be a poor photocopy.

On top of that, Tom’s substitute Wes Welker/Julian Edelman/Danny Woodhead/type of player is the notable nutcase Danny Almondola Amendola. Now he too is hurting badly, barely able to practice. Ditto for Chris Hogan who has even lost a few teeth this past game with smash-mouth football.

How many more Patriots will bite the dust before Tom’s Magic mirror is glued back together?

We searched the Internet for a means to stop the curse. The news is not good:  you must  bury all the shards and pieces of the broken mirror in a midnight ceremony. Yikes.

Light some candles for Tom.

 

The way things are going, and the pace at which he is losing his best players, we feel the Patriots’ goose will be cooked by Xmas.

A Froggy Night in Foxboro Town

DATELINE:  Foggy Bottoms Up

Michigan J. Frog foggy bottom

Cock-eyed optimists were dancing in the street over the return of the Super Bowl Patriots. Down-in-the-dumps pessimists were sent packing by the stalwart Patriot defense. Tom Brady emerged from the mist. If you can see through the fog, you may have X-ray vision.

The replay of the Super Bowl was exactly as billed. These were not the teams that had played just a few months ago. The Patriots were dominant, and the Falcons were pathetic. The Falcons clearly have post-traumatic stress from the Super Bowl.

If you thought you would be able to see the forest from the trees, you would’ve been blinded by what they call in London an old fashioned “pea-souper.”

Yes, the fog was on the pumpkin, not the frost. It came down from the heavens like something to cover up the antics of Jack the Ripper. Indeed, Belichick’s minions acted like razor-sharp purveyors of the slice-and-dice school of football. The Falcons looked like Tweety-Bird.

The fog was thicker than anything Heathcliff ever saw on the Moors.

How quickly professional sports shift. It’s like someone set off a seismic charge underneath the fan base. Resulting in a nebulous ceiling, a cloud of uncertainty not raised quite yet.

Have the Patriots been restored to their place of distinction? Or did we merely see another example of this team putting on the Ritz? Tell me in five weeks that the Pats are on top of the world.

Tune in next week when the announcers will not be surprised and misidentify natural phenomena as the smoke of fireworks that lingered for four quarters.

So much for expert analysis.

 

 

We Won’t Stand For It Much Longer

DATELINE: Anthem Anathema

 4th at great barn

Call us a legal novice, but we think that suing all 32 NFL team owners for collusion will not help Colin Kaepernick find employment in the NFL.

This is despite some high-profile openings in the position. For example, Aaron Rodgers is out with a broken collarbone. Would the Green Bay Packers be interested in a QB who won a Super Bowl as a stand-in who promised to stand up for the National Anthem? or any team that lost a quarterback to broken bones lately?

Not really. Green Bay, Wisconsin, is next to Frostbite Falls when it comes to political tolerance. You might find yourself a target of moose hunting, as Bullwinkle often noted.

The former 49er probably can blame President Trump as much as anyone for the damnation that Kaepernick is experiencing with sports fans and extremist flag-wavers who think John Phillip Sousa wrote the “Star Spangled Banner.”

If we recall, it was Philip Nolan who cursed the United States in 1812, and was made the Man Without a Country for the rest of his life by the United States, not the USFL or NFL.

Nolan couldn’t play football, and he was mostly fictional from the mind of Edward Everett Hale, whose uncle was named Nathan Hale, and was hanged for his patriotism by our long-time friends, the former British Red Coats.

All is forgiven now, after 250 years when Brits shot Americans at the Lexington-Concord Green.  We fear that Kaepernick’s career will be on the downslide after a wait of 250 years for national forgiveness.

We believe in non-violent protest. Call us an old-fashioned Goldwater Republican because we don’t recognize the people who have hijacked the GOP and the Presidency.

Don’t dun us: our military DD214 allows us to enjoy malpractice at a VA hospital and we can be buried under a flag in a VA cemetery of our choice.

We don’t even like Colin Kaepernick or his wild hair. However, we believe in his right to protest the fear of being shot down in the street by some rogue police officer.

 

 

 

Trump Gives NFL a Concussion

DATELINE: Trump Playing without a Helmet glad gladiators

Money talks and President Trump listens. No man is an island in the NFL, and woe to islands that are decimated by hurricanes.

Mr. Stump Trump, our Lord of the Flies, has encouraged his followers to seek financial remuneration through demands for refunds from NFL teams, and some former fans have even claimed to boycott the football games, driving ratings to alleged lows.

Whether this is true or has any lasting merit is not yet clear.

On the other hand, it is clear that Trump has cast the island of Puerto Rico adrift. We don’t know if any games have had protests on the island because we don’t think anyone is playing games while their lives are facing a lack of drinking water, no electrical power, and isolation from social media.

And you thought the NFL has a problem.

Half the teams in the NFL are losers again this week. It’s the nature of the beast. However, Trump will now take credit for having players stand in respect, hands over hearts, arms linked, hands on shoulders, as the “Star Spangled Banner” unfurls. We feel that the Nazi salute is not far from Trump demands.

Millions watch games. Trump attends a fancy golf tournament at a golf club that costs $500,000 to join.  There is plenty of disconnect here with players in the NFL who make no less than that per season, with many making millions. Fans pay plenty to go to games and express their free speech right to the minions of the sport who have no rights in Trump’s world.

Respect is a one-way street in Trump’s America.

Like the ancient Roman gladiators, who died entertaining their rapacious fans, the NFL players must stand and repeat, “We who are about to be concussed salute you,” to Trump as he sits like Nero in his golf suite.

Many will contribute much of their earnings to the DumpTrump movement that is burgeoning among American citizens with and without a brain concussion.

As a Trump donor in the previous election, we receive nearly daily requests to voice our support and loyalty to Donald Trump. The requests center upon a donation of $1 to prove our loyalty. No one has asked us to boycott games and boo NFL players—yet.

Nor have we been asked to donate to relief funds for Puerto Rico by the same committee supporting Trump. The money is for the president, not citizens without homes, water, or to end a life threatening struggle to survive.

It has made us a tad sick.

It’s all the problem of “fake news media,” though it is growing unclear who the real fake is.

 

 

 

 

 

What Price Glory? Bees’ Knees Have It

DATELINE: Trump’s Magical Misdirections

trump apron strings

The NFL anthem protest is a tempest in a teapot. Trump is dealing with more Teapot Dome tempests than any president since Warren G. Harding.

You might think there is no possible resolution to the knee-jerk reaction of Donald Trump to NFL protesting players. Forget them not: Basketball of the NBA is on the horizon where the lives of black players matter big.

When Trump notes that NFL owners are afraid of their plantation slaves, we are reminded that such a mentality was quite prevalent in the early 19th century among cotton-picking businessmen. Like any good magician, Trump is misdirecting his audience away from his sleight of hand, like a Mississippi riverboat charlatan.

So, the NFL has called in team captains and owners for a meeting of the minds. Fear is a great equalizer.

Roger Goodell met on Thursday with Devin McCourty and Matthew Slater, two New England Patriot leaders—and with owner Robert Kraft. Tom Brady seems to have taken a powder with his MAGA hat.

Powers that be may well be worried over the few knuckleheads who have burned their team jerseys with blow torches and have sworn never to watch another football game.

We don’t believe it. These followers of social media are like junkyard dogs, barking up a storm, but in the heady days of Super Bowl hype, we feel they will find their mettle melted.

Perhaps football Sunday should be immune from politics and inflammatory rhetoric. Fat chance with the Lord of the Flies Donald Trump tweeting out with presidential flair and Dumbo abandon.

Arm-in-arm, solidarity against racism would seem to be a no-brainer, though some conservatives feel the venue is inappropriate. Yet, their message is lost in a blinding white-out storm.

Anticipated more than victory may be the pre-game anthem, a place in America where black men have risen to fame and fortune while the majority of their peers face daily worry that a stray bullet may end their black and bleak lives.

If Russian agents exploited ‘Black Lives Matter’ to win a national election for the Lord of the Flies, you can bet your bottom dollar that, as that Fenway Park sign told a few weeks back, racism is as American as football and baseball, not to mention basketball.

 

Stranger Bedfellow: Peyton Manning

DATELINE:  Super Bowl Hay Woven into Political Gold

At one point during the heyday of Tom Brady, way back when he was young, everyone thought that the future for Tom Brady, Donald Trump’s quondam friend would be a career in politics. He had the red hat and he had the swagger.

Trump even lobbied him as a husband for Ivanka a dozen years ago. Tom’s certainly a better catch than Jared Kushner.

There was inevitable talk he would seek a role in political office in Massachusetts, though the state is probably a tad more liberal for him than his actual politics. Tom doesn’t need deodorant because avocado ice cream smells better than it looks.

However, the Trump people may be more delighted with that pizza-slinging huckster-cum-politician Peyton Manning.

The man who plays more golf with Trump than Brady is a rank conservative icon. Yes, word is out that Tennessee may be needing a new senator next year–and Peyton Manning has a “Hail Mary” chance and pass in his future.

Considered highly popular among those who never kneel except in church, and well-known not just for his on-field antics, but his off-field commercials, he knows something about sound bites.

Jingles and jingoism are not alien to Peyton. Nationwide Insurance and health care are up his passer rating. Just ask him to hum a bar or two.

We wait to discover whether his conservative ultra-right positions will sit well with the American public in general.  We know they will likely sit quite well in Tennessee, where the Beverly Hillbillies originally hailed—and where bluegrass is unusually red around the neck.

Politics makes strange bedfellows, and nothing could be stranger than to find Tom Brady still playing in the NFL– and Peyton Manning in the United States Senate.

Lord of the Flies: Donald Trump

 DATELINE:  Free Speech & Concussed Politicians

lord

North Korea has it wrong. Trump is not the Commander-in-Grief. He is the Lord of the Flies, the William Golding horror reborn.

NFL fans of the game may be coming to a rather harsh realization. Freedom of speech cuts. Two ways. They were counter-free speechified by the players on Sunday.

You may boo your least favorite players in the stadium and to their face as they score winning points to help your team. Then, cheers. What manner is this hypocrisy?

On the other hand,  players have a right to express their feelings as well. We think they ought to just thumb noses, instead of a respectful knee to the ground. Save that for the bully-pulpit fans.

You may not like seeing players kneel during Our National Anthem.  It’s almost like praying for a better country.  Fat chance for that under the Lord of the Flies.

Mr. Trump is completely convinced that he would rather be right than president.  Trump is no Henry Clay when it comes to cold feet. He has performed no presidential feat greater than dividing the nation into red and blue. He leaves the white for separatist flags.

Perhaps his wish will be granted. We either will have the end of the world in a nuclear holocaust against another race of the Yellow Peril, or we will have a race war in America. In either case, you have to admit Trump has divided America in ways we haven’t seen since the Civil War.

Russian interference of the election is secondary to Trump hijacking of the Constitution.

Of course, we have come to expect the worst of NFL fans. They laugh and demean the idea of concussions. Ask Will Smith.

They watch gladiator athletes concussed weekly for entertainment. If memory serves, during the campaign President Trump scoffed at the idea of concussions for NFL players as a sign of weakness. Talk about brain bankruptcy.

All this goes to show that what goes around comes around, like Aaron Hernandez and Confederate resurrection.  It’s all in a day’s work for the Lord of the Flies.

Patriot ‘Sons of Bitches’

DATELINE:  Tom Brady’s Bitch Teammates

 34 missing 34 Missing Patriots

After President Trump called NFL player protesters against racial violence a bunch of sons of bitches who should be fired for having a political viewpoint, many NFL players as well as another sports figures have responded vehemently.

Team owners have joined their players in calling the President a divisive and ridiculous provocateur.  They also think he is a detriment to the unity of the nation. This squares with Tom Brady hater Roger Goodell. We would point out these owners are fellow billionaires and true equals of President Trump. You, dear reader, are not an equal in the new American democracy of Mr. Trump.

In terms of the lower-level millionaires who play for the NFL and NBA, many of them have taken umbrage with being labeled sons of bitches for kneeling in meditation during the national anthem. Oh, say, TV cameras won’t see them as the media never covers Sunday “Star-Spangled Banner” renditions.

Perhaps we too have become sick of the entire protest movement, or just tired of the hullabaloo. In any respect, we seem to be less bothered now than ever before by kneeling athletes. We seem more concerned with black lives being of no matter.

It is interesting that among the Patriots of New England, there is an official silence. Since fellow billionaire Robert Kraft is a dinner guest, jet-set flying Trump equal, there is no disparity between them.

Yet, Coach Belichick and Tom Brady (other Trump supporters) have also been quiet about which of their teammates are truly sons of bitches. 34 refused to go to the lily White House in April.

Devin McCourty, one of the captains of the team and one of the players who refused to go to the White House in April for an honor to Trump, gave a namby-pamby response to the President who inferred he was a son of bitch. You can’t find yourself in Belichick’s doghouse. Thus, silence reigns.

Many of the others who refused to go to the White House have now left the Patriots for other teams where they can protest and kneel to their hearts’ content.

We will be watching closely today to see which Patriots are truly sons of bitches and will report back to you.