Just Wright, You Cannot Go Wrong!

DATELINE: No Salad Eating Chick

  Queen & Commoner

We may be catching this about ten years too late, but better late! Hundreds of views on Amazon Prime say how much they love this movie. Queen Latifah is perfect, not Just Wright.

As one of the few oversize women in starring roles, unabashed, she steals every scene with her genuine sweetness in the face of life’s adversities.

She plays a physical therapist who has a chance encounter with an NBA star (Common). From there, the breaks seem to go every which way. Phylicia Rashaad plays Common’s mother, and Pam Grier plays Latifah’s mother. We have something going on here.

We were mostly bowled over and amused to find another Boston icon in the movie: Latifah starred with Tom Brady’s wife in one picture, and here in all the basketball scenes is former Celtic, Rajon Rondo.

This romantic comedy with a basketball setting has all the wrong turns and twists of fate you might expect that throw the crossed paths of Latifah and Common back together repeatedly.

Because Queen Latifah is not your standard trophy wife of a pro athlete type, this film takes on more gravitas. Common is a tad short for the NBA but is likeable and good-looking. But Rondo is a better actor, but Dwight Howard has a bigger scene.

The inevitable twist of fate brings the physical therapist into physical contact with the superstar in contract negotiations, and the big pay-off must satisfy the audience.

This is sheer fantasy, as any fan can tell you. Players are never thrown into a big game full-time after a career injury, but spend weeks acclimating. But this is a movie romance.

Queen Latifah even hums a few bars from “The More I See You,” in one scene as a throwaway to her old musical career. She’s billed as musical consultant. Don’t be fooled: this is still a jazzy gem.

 

 

 

 

 

Josh & Kyle Allen, Twin QBs of NFL

DATELINE: Boys Will be Quarterbacks!

 Siamese Twins?

Are we seeing double? Are they separated at birth? Are they twins?

The Red Zone of NFL has given us a double dose of cutie-pie QBs. We are now in double jeopardy of wondering how the NFL can allow players to take the field before they can shave.

Josh Allen and Kyle Allen are among the new generation of NFL quarterbacks. They have leapt into the Internet social media and beefcake dreamboat category simultaneously.

They are not joined at the hip because we saw them in different cities on the same day. However, we still cannot tell them apart without a scorecard.

Of course, one is always a tad shocked to find out that the star players are so young that they look like teenagers who could play the Hardy Boys in a new cable series.

TeenBeat might be featuring them on the cover. They could play Tom Brady’s sons in a movie.

One of them plays for the Buffalo Bills and the other now has taken over the Carolina Panthers. They are not your average blue-collar city boys. They are fresh off the farm.

Gleaming smiles and boyish good looks are not the kind of tough guy image you expect from grizzled NFL leaders, like Troy and Peyton. This is the new generation following in the footsteps of botox Tom Brady, whose looks now try to defy the twenty-somethings whom he must play against.

Of course, there is a big difference between looking young and actually being young. We don’t know if the Bobsey Twins of Josh and Kyle will fall into the youth movement of 2040 and find silicone to fill their wrinkles and cracks.

Right now they are so adorable that you wish the time machine would hold still for a few years.

We wish them long careers and hope they never are able to grow a beard like Ryan Fitzpatrick and cover up those beautiful doll looks. Movie contracts are sure to follow.

Tom Brady’s Cloudy Future?

DATELINE:  Tom’s Time Runs Out

bad bad bundchen Mrs. Tom Brady.

Reading Tom Brady’s tea leaves is pretty difficult, because he doesn’t drink tea!

Nevertheless, fans have requested that we look into the future of Tom Brady, as we have written several books on him and his general flakiness (See Tom Brady Swinging on a Deflategate, Amazon, paper and ebook).

It appears first that he has signed a large new contract extension with a raise that makes him the sixth highest paid player among NFL quarterbacks. Not bad for a GOAT.

Once again this year Brady gives the Kraft team more money to spend on other players or massages.

The big news is that he has put his house in Brookline, Massachusetts, up for sale for under $40 million buckeroos.  Well, it is up and down.  It appeared to be for sale, then it wasn’t. There’s no hurry as he intends to play for at least one more year in New England.

Patriot fans, who have come to think Brady may be a mere mortal  after all, believe he may play just one more year and move to New York where he has bought a high-priced condo for his wife and children.

Like former teammate Gronk, Brady has loyalty to New England only as far as he can play as the team is concerned.

Gisele, one time model and actress, his wife, a billionaire in her own right, has other interests in the big city of the Big Apple .

These two are a Met gala power-couple with international ties who belong only to the money they have: no teams, no countries, no political groups .

Tom and his wife Gisele can do anything they want, and they will.

In the meantime, Tom has admitted that one of his great frustrations is that his second son doesn’t want to be an athlete like dear old dad. This young man is independent and wants to follow his own star, which may not be his father’s star.

All in all, the tea leaves say Tom, star of Tom v. Time, is headed for big changes in his ticking biological clock.

Ossurworld has written several books on Brady, including Tom Brady Swinging on a Deflategate. Available on amazon.com in print version or e-book for smartreaders.

 

 

 

Queen: Mercury Rising: Predating the Movie

 DATELINE: Long Live the Champion!

Champion Real Mercury!

From 2011, a biographical documentary on Freddie Mercury may well have been the instrument to inspire the movie story of his life called Bohemian Rhapsody.

In advertisements and descriptions, Mercury has been called one of the most beloved entertainers of the 20th century:  we presume that puts him in the esteemed company of Sophie Tucker, Judy Garland, and Lassie.

We love dramatizations of the basic facts elicited in this life-story of a musical icon.

What the Zanzibar native named Farrouk really transcended was the crossover of glam-rock and Bowie with some kind of sports anthem creator. He was his most important self-made titan/champion with an overbite.

Yes, let’s face it, Queen and Mercury created a couple of songs that have lived as the victory songs for every winning sports teams—and probably shall continue so for decades ahead.

That’s no mean feat.

Mercury as not Freddie, but a self-creation of the Raj and Brit music waves of the 1960s and 1970s. He certainly helped to establish MTV and music videos—and they gave him fame.

His coming-out at the time of Studio 54 meant he was in the forerunning of gay icons, and among the victims of a generation who died in the early horror of HIV infection. He was carefree and did not flinch from his lifestyle, even if it might kill him.

The movie with Rami Malek could not have found a better embodiment of Mercury than the wide-eyed actor. And, we will examine that film in due time. In the meantime, if you need a more objective look at his life, we recommend Mercury Rising, the story of Queen by those who were closest.

Danny Amendola on MVP Julian Edelman

 DATELINE: Demon & Pythiass

Danny & Julie Danny with Jules.

One of the guests to watch the Patriots win yet again another Super Bowl, number VI out of LIII, was a man who chose to leave the team to sign a contract with rival Miami before this season.

Aspiring model and wide receiver for the Dolphins, Danny Amendola, was there as a close friend to videographer and now Super MVP Julian Edelman and supporter of his former teammate.When asked one of the more personally interesting questions as he arrived in Atlanta, he said he did not like Edelman’s beard. “It’s smelly,” he told reporters on the fly.

If any man has been up close to the challenge of finding food particles in Julian’s fur-based face, it is the always adorable Danny.

No man is closer to Edelman and as familiar with his workout partner’s habits, Amendola starred in many of Edelman’s videos and antics. Amendola surely knows the intricacies of Julie’s bushy follicles.

He, like the rest of us, may be perplexed at the ugliness of his facial hair—and how he now waxes and wanes his entire body below the neck.

If Edleman likes to take fur off his buff bod, you may wonder why he leaves the au naturel look on his chinny-chin-chin. He surely has bone structure as sharp as Tom Brady, even without Botox, which leads us to note that our most blockbuster blog is the one in which we discussed the “work” Brady has done to maintain his youthful looks.

It’s important when you plan to play a game in the public eye until decrepitude and the Grim Reaper darken your door to stay youthful.

As for Danny, who had his own oddball hopes of becoming a supermodel, he can only second-guess whether he regrets his decision to leave the big stage of the Julie and Tom show, Super Bowl perennials, to play with the fishes in Miami.

 

Timely Episode 5 for Tom Brady

DATELINE:  An Affair to Remember

brady back

On the day of the ignominious Super Bowl that will live in infamy as the Last Hurrah of so many coaches, Tom Brady chose to release #5 of his Tom Versus Time vanity project.

What Brady never fully understood about his six-part documentary series is that all is vanity when his speaks about his personal philosophy like he was Henry David Thoreau facing a lockup for failure to pay taxes in Brookline.

Right from the get-go, he tells the audience he is tyring to find the deeper purpose of life and and live it in the episode called “The Spiritual Game,” which likely amused Zen-Buddhists everywhere.

Alas, Tom Brady comes across as self-centered in his egocentric universe. He is looking for miracles and magic and finds them only in pro sports. He has had a 27-year affair with football, and his wife approves.

The insights begin 8 weeks before the season in Costa Rica where Brady goes to surf, learning “not to fight Mother Nature.” His Argeninian wife loves it there, and it is tropical and quite in contrast to the coldest game he has ever played in during December.

Narrative jumps over 15 weeks in a flash, and Tom admits life goes by fast: but really, this fast?

Tom knows he is a public figure and withholds paying attention to those distractions. He cannot waste his precious energy on media trivia, except to make a documentary.

“I’m gonna determine what’s important for me,” he tells his fans. Clearly, everything else comes in second to self-importance.

Tom and Patriots lost Super Bowl LII—and the final episode has been withheld to deal with that ugly fact.

Old GOATS like Tom Brady

DATELINE:  Satchel, Howe, MJ

 old geezers

There’s one in every sport.

Tom Brady is not alone, except in his particular game of choice.

Once in every great sport of major-league proportion, there comes in individual who seems to challenge the notion of growing old, who makes Destiny his puppet.

In hockey that man is Gordie Howe who is scoring goals in his 40s and 50s.  He even had the chutzpah to stick around until he could play hockey with his grown sons as professionals.

In basketball, the man is Michael Jordan who at age 40 scored 40 points in a game. He could not retire until a third attempt at leaving hoops.

In baseball, the man is Satchel Paige who was a MLB Rookie at age 47 and who pitched three innings against the Red Sox at age 59 allowed only one hit. Luis Tiant was his teammate in Cleveland.

So, fans, Tom Brady is in fine company. At age 40 he is leading his team to another Super Bowl.

What did these men have in common?

They could never retire, never wanted to leave the game, never admitted admitted time was the greatest enemy who could win against them. They were obsessed with their game. To them playing their game was a Religion and each of them was a high priest in the arts of sport.

To be allowed to observe and to follow one of these special careers and individuals does not happen often, as you can see from each sport’s history.

Today, in football of the NFL, you are a witness to something that happens only in several generations, and only once in the sport in a hundred years.

You will not see their likes again. And, Tom Brady is not done.

 

 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

 

Ray Allen: Gone Fishing for Compliments

DATELINE: Mysterious World of Cat Fishing

on the DL

If you haven’t heard of cat-fishing, you are out of touch with today’s Internet.

Former Boston Celtic Ray Allen is giving us a crash course in something to do with scams, sexual harassment, and online game players.

He is now counter-suing a young man who pretended to be a woman (actually several women) and lured Mr. Allen into online relationships.

It appears there is more than meets the eye to your online pickup lines.

Allen allegedly started stalking his tweeter. Well, how can you stalk a man who pretends to be a woman without finding out that the stalk is off-kilter?

In the world of retired sports stars with time on their hands, you discover that it was a two-way stalking. The young deceiver may have had incriminating evidence and was a threat to reveal it to the family of Mr. Allen.

This gives new meaning to the term “on the down-low.”  Yes, sports fans, in the world of sexual stalking, being on the DL is not always the disabled list.

We might wonder if former movie star (He Got Game) and 3-point champ Allen was light in his sneakers when he took all those jump shots.

We recall vividly his inexplicable feud with Rajon Rondo when they were on their championship NBA treadmill nearly a decade ago.

All the Celtics teammates blackballed Mr. Allen when he jumped ship for an NBA ring on another team. Perhaps teammates already were separating themselves from the DL list.

So, Ray’s best defense is now that he was cat-fished, the colorful term to describe a sexual peccadillo.

 

Obama & Brady: Round Two

 DATELINE:  White House Photo Op

mia-brady

Pardon the President for turning his head and coughing up a Super Bowl prediction.

It’s the closest President Barack Obama has come to endorsing Donald Trump as the next president.

Mr. Obama gave an interview this week in which he predicted that Tom Brady and the Patriots would win the Super Bowl in, what he considers, a somewhat deteriorating quality NFL. He thinks with all the weak teams, it looks like a Republican primary.

The President believes it will be a return to the glorious past: Seattle versus New England. We are still uncertain if this makes American great again.

Mr. Brady skipped out on the last Patriot team meeting with the President at the White House for family business. Some thought the business likely was related to the Trump family. Years before he married Giselle, Trump tried to interest Tom in his daughter Ivanka.

Tom found a woman prepared to live La Dolce Vita with the football hero in eight-and-a-half Fellini ways. Enough on that score.

Now, Obama is well aware that the next winner of the Super Bowl will go to the White House to meet a different president. In all likelihood, Tom will be in attendance for this one—if Trump wins.

We might suggest that, if Tom doesn’t win the next Super Bowl, that the NFL is rigged. We are certain Trump would concur.

Of course, all’s well that ends well—in Mr. Trump’s words—“if I win.”

TB Times: Brady’s Sporty Therapy

DATELINE: Humorist

tb-times

How can a humorist with the flu compete week after week with the TB Times?

The foremost humor Internet sensation’s managing editor also happens to manage the scoring for the New England Patriots. Tom Brady has always considered himself the master of the one-liner. He deprecating humor rivals Groucho and parodies Rodney Dangerfield.

Brady routinely ropes in 102,000 likes per week.

Now, he is undercutting our sports therapy humor by sending powder puff compliments to T-Rex Ryan. And, Ryan has returned the compliments. We are buried in cream puffs.

Clearly, Rex does not want to poke a stick at the caged Patriot who might bite off any Buffaloes within smell distance.

Once the game starts, we know that Brady will make an audible “Rex Ryan” to convulse the Bills with laughter. Right now the two giants of ego are playing nice-nice. We expect the game to resemble a Trump-Clinton debate.

We aren’t sure who will be the nasty person, and which one will be the bad hombre when the fans line up to go trick or treating.

We figure by fourth quarter Rex and his twin will begin to look the candidates for the Deplorables Award.

We will attempt to be humorous again as soon as our dry heaves end.

Birth of a New Big Three for the Celtics?

DATELINE: Hoping for a Triumverate

 Boston sports

In the beginning there was Bird, McHale, and Parrish. Thence came Garnett, Allen, and Pierce. Now the Moving Finger seemed about to write a new chapter of Big Guns.

Though the Celtics were starting free agency looking like a candidate for the TV show The Biggest Loser, the roll of the dice out of Beacon Hill seemed to harbor a Boston change.

Late Saturday afternoon in the Hamptons, the Fourth of July fireworks grew into a frenzy.

The Boston Celtics sent a contingent to meet with Kevin Durant. This seemed to rival the Paris Peace Talks of 1973.

Delegations to convince superstars to join the ranks of a new team have become de rigueur practice in sports negotiations. Already, the Celtics reportedly signed Kevin Durant’s close friend, Al Horford, to a maximum contract—and that was considered a trump card for the Celtics strategy.

Of course, chief bottle washer Danny Ainge once put together the Big Three with Kevin Garnett, Paul Pierce and Ray Allen. Now he was orchestrating another Big Gang.

Showing up in the Hamptons with Kelly Olynyk, Marcus Smart, and Isaiah Thomas, was the other secret weapon player: Tom Brady of the Patriots.

We’d seen him courtside at the Boston Garden, and now Tom Brady was courtside at a conversion party.

Not to be left out, Red Sox superstar David Ortiz sent Durant a tweet apologizing for not being at the meeting, but he had a game that afternoon.

Kevin Durant is cogitating at last report about joining the Celtics.

Curse of the Bambino Haunts the Celtics

DATELINE:  A-Rod Spoils the Night

 Jacoby Returns

The curse of the Bambino hit the Celtics and eliminated them in the playoffs this season.

Yes, you had only to look at the New York Yankees who came to the playoff game to realize the Celts were dead meat. If the Yanks can do in the Red Sox annually, the Celtics end up as an appetizer.

Who let them in?

So, with the Yankees coming to Fenway Park on Friday for the first series of the season against the Red Sox, you had several Yankees coming to the last game of the season for the Celtics.

You be the judge.

There in the front row, inexplicably a fan of someone somewhere, was A-Rod. Yes, the loathed Alex Rodriguez of the Yanks was at a Celtics game, smiling and spreading his own brand of joie de vivre for Atlanta fans.

To see A-Rod in fine fettle across the court from Bill Russell, you wondered what voodoo would outdo the doo-doo.

Yet, it was worse. The Prodigal Son of the Red Sox showed up in a luxury box, high above the rafters. Yes, there he was in all his splendor, Jacoby Ellsbury, former Red Sox star of the future, and now Yankee bench-rider of the present. He too was a happy camper, waving at the crowd from his perch where the Atlanta Hawks might have an aerie.

The Celtics were doomed from the opening tip-off. The Bambino sent his minions to another sport in Boston—and sent the Celtics off to the golf courses of America for another summer.

 

In Defense of the Indefensible Curt Schilling

DATELINE:  Under the Tidal Wave

Bloody sock be damned. Curt Schilling has been sacked by the sanctimonious forces over at the ever-hateful ESPN.  You know them: the people who lied about Tom Brady repeatedly and will do anything to undermine the Patriots.

For several years Curt Schilling, a bust as a businessman, went media happy with the wrong people. Media moguls are politically correct, with waxy eardrums listening to the latest polling results. ESPN people have no backbone, and usually are found on the lower rungs of Hades if Dante is to be believed. They live with the jellyfish.

Today ESPN fired Schilling for having views not compatible with sponsors and others who succumb to pressure from consumers who hate sports. So much for a sports cable network eating its own.

Schilling  doesn’t want transgender people walking into any bathroom. For this he has lost his livelihood. It is likely that he will now be blackballed among the media libertards around the nation.

There may be a job for him in some backwoods backwater, evangelical black hole, but he should not expect his insights, expertise, or person, to be respected ever again.

Once your reputation is sullied, you cannot go home again. There is nothing more sanctimonious than colleagues who are intolerant of views they deem outre. Iconoclasm in the defense of liberty is a vice according to sports experts at ESPN.

Sometimes the greatest hate comes from those who hate anyone different from their majority. It’s bullying the bullies, but it remains bullying from the pulpit of correctness.

We have not always agreed with Schilling, but we know the feeling of being on the fringe of opinion in a world that put outliers into the same category as regular liars, intolerant ignoramuses, and gibbering idiots.

We never thought of ourselves as perfect, and neither is Curt Schilling, but there must be a Brave New World island where exile is preferable to being subjugated by the insufferable new Puritans who disdain anyone whom they consider practitioners of “unacceptable behavior” (and that covers any ground west of the Salem Witch trials, or east of the Blacklisted Hollywood writers).

Celtics Look Done for Another Year

DATELINE: When Likeable Isn’t Enough

Like the cicada, we come out of hiding every decade or so to re-dedicate ourselves to the Boston Celtics.

We thought this should be the year. The Celtics have a born-again Red Auerbach coach in Brad Stevens. We have become totally devoted to this remarkable superstar coach, and he has brought the team to the playoffs.

But this is not the year for the Celtics. Glaring holes in the roster emerged when Avery Bradley and Kelly Olynyk fell to the injury curse. Stevens played ten all season—and now, like an Agatha Christie mystery, the team has only eight.

Oh, we have been delighted with the Rondo replacement: the IT boy. Yes, there once was an IT girl, Theda Bara. She had it. Well, Isaiah Thomas has “it” too. We didn’t think there was a cure for the fatal flaw of Rajon, but “IT” is it.

We still have Jelly O’Sully on the roster, that remarkable combo of Sullinger and Olynyk, though some say its day is now over. The summer season will see one, if not both, gone with haste while Danny Ainge finds superstars to replace them.

We like the rookie who never played much this season: he reminds us of Kevin McHale in his posture and body language.

We have come to appreciate Evan Don’t Call Him Turnover Turner, and we have come to watch Marcus smarten up. His gold Mohawk has grown on us too–even if Fort Knox loses its golden locks.

Yet, the team is not ready for the Final series. It’s a shame because we truly liked this bunch. What returns next season won’t be the same.