Four Little Letters at ESPN

DATELINE: Idiots from the Show-Me State of Mind

 Imbecile at Large!

 The limits of telling off an elected official have now reached critical point. A fairly well-known sports journalist has been suspended by that bastion of free speech, ESPN, for telling a closet-idiot senator known for his Trump edge to go “f” himself.

We’ve heard worse diatribes aimed at immortal beings. It seems many in the NBA (whom the un-pronounceable journalist was defending) have come to his aid and comfort.

Billion-dollar corporations and billionaires are now defended by a gaggle of ungagged neo-racist fools and idiots. Josh Hawley is a 40-year old exploitative politician who wants to make hay fast. He is also from the “Show-Me” state of Missouri.

We’d love to show him total disrespect due his rank smell.

The notorious Sen. Josh Hawley is the bright light of the dim GOP and may well be a candidate successor to Donald Trump when the present presidente is sent packing to a Moscow address after the next election.

You cannot use four-letter words in an email at ESPN. To argue our usual line of thought, a good writer need not stoop to profanity. Isn’t the education of a wordsmith that he can express his exasperation without four letters being the custom of boobs and thugs?

We certainly understand the need for a Republican senator of the United States to perform an impossible sex act on himself. However, we might couch it on the couch with more genteel verbiage.

Part of our divided America is that those who have intelligence and education must not stoop to conquer the profane idiots of the crypto-Nazi field, like Senator Hawley, a near-Cro-Magnon Republican stalwart.

Fat Cells Unite!

DATELINE: When a Pound is not a Lb.

 Moby Trump?

Someone is not telling us the truth. The relative weight of blubber is not fluid.

According to Nero Trump’s latest physical exam, he stands 6’3” and weighs 244 pounds. This is a growth of height and weight since he became president.

When we looked at Ryan Allen, formerly of the New England Patriots, another athletic individual, he is listed as 6’3” and 230 pounds. Clearly someone has his numbers skewed.

When you look at a man 40 years younger than Trump, one expects to see more muscle. In this photo comparison, it is clear that Trump has more muscle around the ears and around the waist.

We think it cruel that Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi believes that Ryan Allen is morbidly obese as she characterized a man who is tall and athletic. Oh, wait, she was calling Mr. Trump “morbidly obese.”

We must castigate the House Speaker because Trump is merely “clinically obese,” if we believe the poundage presented by his ever-truthful doctor.

It is not possible that Trump is 275 pounds, though his shape more naturally matches the size girth of NFL linemen more than a place kicker.

Trump defenders insist that the President’s fat cells have been photoshopped.  We think it is more possible that they have been distorted by hydroxy treatments. Couple that with the lack of exercise caused by his daily couch-watching habits determined by Fox TV binges, and you have put a bullseye on the below-the-belt hitting Democrats.

Tom Brady at Skinwalker Ranch

Tom Brady at Skinwalker Ranch

Brady’s Custom Spaceship Now for Sale!

Tom Brady continues to divest himself of all things New England. Latest is his used vehicle, a customized spaceship that brings heart-warming memories back to the aging quarterback.

It can be yours for $300,000. Not since the Aaron Hernandez Death-Mobile went up for sale on eBay has there been such a chance for Patriots fans.

Among the amenities, this vehicle is super re-enforced to protect Brady against bad New England drivers. You may not recall he was involved in a car crash on the way to Gillette Stadium early in his career. After that, he wanted super-reinforced electromagnetic, interdimensional protections.

Now we presumed he worried about terrorists and kidnappers against his family, but now living in Trump country where there are no taxes and Gulf Breeze is a familiar jumping off point, he no longer needs insured protection: unless it is against space abductions by rival aliens and lost time (an important commodity for Tom).

Yes, the vehicle exceeds all U.S. Crush and Crash Resistance Laws. Unfortunately, this gas guzzler will need plenty of fuel as it goes about 3000 feet on a gallon of high octane.

This vehicle has propulsion that can travel to the stars with stars: it’s not just another pimpmobile where Julie Edelman and cronies can pile in.

Yes, this vehicle can transcend warp speed and has even been seen emerging from orange portals at Skinwalker Ranch, lending credence to the notion that Tom Brady is a shape-shifter as well as a shifty guy.

The custom seating will accommodate Brady in whatever form he takes in his universal time travels. Oh, yes, this car exceeds the DeLorean abilities of going back to the future. Tom has maintained his youthful appearance by using the vehicle as a hyperbolic time chamber in his copper-fused pajama spacesuit.

There is enough headroom in this vehicle that the Apollo astronauts would be envious.

Though it has been deceptively created to appear to be a Cadillac Escalade, it is a vehicle once filmed by AATIP jet pilots on scramble over Catalina Island.

Among standard modifications are six-way electro-magnetic chargers that gently provide you with immortality while reclining in the electric leg rests.

“Parting ways with my UFO won’t be easy. From day one it became my sanctuary from the outside noise,” the Tompa Bay Buccaneer star is quoted as saying in the listing. He hopes that the next owner will feel like Superman, a strange visitor from another planet who may also use the disguise of an NFL GOAT to hide his true identity.

 

Boston Celtics Dynamic Duo

DATELINE: Young Guns

The Boston Celtics have a problem: it is a nickname to be applied to their young tandem 30-points each in a game stars. We haven’t felt a giddy issue in the Celtic world since we heard Larry Bird isn’t walking through that door.

The Celtics are no longer looking to trade one or both: you can tell that from the new public relations spots in Boston that urge fans to vote them as teammates to the All-Star squad.

The big problem is their nickname: for past vainglorious stars like Bird and McHale or Russell and Heinsohn, nicknames were superfluous. But social media and youth must be served. Young fans want to label their new generation of superstars for the upcoming decade.

Originally Jalen Brown wanted to call themselves 7-11. Open all night, or something, but Jayson immediately changed his number from 11  to 0.  Such are the results of testosterone and competition.

Jayson once said he would be Brown’s trainer for free if he no longer had an NBA career. His pay: a room in Jalen’s big house, which appalled Jalen.

Scary Terry Rozier thought they were simply two annoying youngsters.

They are not your average Batman and Robin.

To their teammates, they are simply JT and JB. And, they are a new version of Bird and McHale, who also never had nicknames, and also had a rather contentious intra-team rivalry: their mutual glue was Danny Ainge, which may be the same factor today.

When McHale scored 50 points one night, Bird said in laconic fashion, “It’s not enough,” and promptly went out and scored  more points a week later, leaving McHale with a record setting for one week.

Some contend they have never seen Jayson pass the ball to Jalen. Perhaps that’s strictly a metaphor. They are two of the most unassuming, quiet, soft-spoken types you would ever meet. They are not flashy or overwhelming in any public way.

It’s difficult to come up with resonating naicknames for two who speak softly and carryi big balls.

We don’t like Triple Double 0-7, and we don’t like Green Jays.

They seem to accept Kid ‘n Play as something workable. They are too accommodating. We still don’t know who’s the kid sidekick.

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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.