New Book Vindicates Ossurworld…Again

DATELINE: Aaron Hernandez Revisited

Laughing Cavalier

When given the choice between staying silent or beating a dead horse, you know what side we fall on.

Once again, vindication and bragging seem to have paired up in our blog. We were an early source to call out and simply out Aaron Hernandez, New England’s Billy the Kid cum Jack the Ripper.

Now his common-law wife has written the introduction to lawyer Jose Baez’s new book on Hernandez:  in it, she admits that Aaron likely maintained a secret gay life. He also wrote a suicide note to his prison gay lover. And more.

Other tawdry revelations likely will follow.

Of course, even in liberal Massachusetts, prosecution teams would not go forth with the gay angle for murder motives. We went there, tastelessly and fearlessly, during earliest moments of the trial of Hernandez.

Police felt investigating a gay lifestyle of an NFL player would boomerang against the case: jurors and NFL fans would never accept that notion about one of their gladiators of the gridiron. Backlash even hit us.

Never let it be said that “gladis” is a Latin term popular in gay circles way back when gladiators roamed the athletic arenas.

So, what comfort do we take from our book The Strange Case of Aaron Hernandez? Not much. Mostly we take royalties as it continues to sell.

In our book and original blog entries, we took the tone of outright indignation over his crimes: revealed that he led one victim to a sexual tryst that turned into a shooting a mile from Hernandez’s home at 3am. What does it all come-down to now? A cheap TV movie? Sensational  books by lawyers and hack journalists (such as we are)? Fake news?

It’s all info-tainment. We used to say that our professorial lectures in college classrooms were nothing more than an exercise in edu-tainment. And blogs are merely the tease, as performed by any self-disrespecting fool or cheap-shot blogger.

We stand by our book on Hernandez. It depicts what is akin to what passes for truth nowadays when Rudi Giuliani tells us that truth is not necessarily truth.

Advertisements

Ring-a-Ding-Ding for Tom Brady

DATELINE:  Bearing the Ring Bearer

scream up close Silent Screamer

It’s only been a year since Super Bowl LI. But for some Tom Brady palsy-walsy connection, the investment has been worth it in spades. No waiting for friendly profit when Tom Brady bankrolls you.

There are few things in life that return itself tenfold in value within one season.

Tom Brady’s authorized replica Super Bowl ring is one of them.

Like all Patriots, the players are allowed to have the team make slightly smaller, replica versions of the players’ ostentatious, tacky Super Bowl rings. That means it wasn’t quite as jewel-encrusted as you might expect if you played the game.

As a result, to hone this bejeweled ring took 10% off the original value. So, if you bought one of these items, or had it as a gift from Brady, it would only cost you (or him) about $30,000. We know from Tom’s video biography, that he gave one special ring to his mother.

We also know the ring-at-auction had Brady’s name etched into it: a dead giveaway of its giveaway.

We don’t know who, what, when, and where, other ring(s) may have gone.

We doubt that Tom’s mother’s the one who sold the ring for $350,000 this week.

We’ve been trying to rack our brains as to what Tom Brady connection or semi-close friend may have received a ring and sold it for 10 times its value. Parting is such sweet sorrow unless you make a quarter of a million bucks on it.

We keep coming back to the godfather of Brady’s child, Guru Alex Guerrero, Tom’s personal massage therapist and dietitian, not to mention Svengali And Mephistopheles.

If anyone has suggestions on which one of Tom’s friends sold his matching replica Super Bowl ring gift, please let us know.

We just don’t think members of the family would sell such an important memento. But, then again, Tom is out of the country. And those confounded mice will play while the Tomcat is away.

To make a quarter of $1 million profitability, we know we would sell it. But we are mercenary, cold-hearted, and ruthless. Can’t you tell from our blog?

Asteroid Threatens Super Bowl LII

DATELINE: Brady Rejects Distraction

brady mirror

According to USA Today, “An asteroid spanning one-third of a mile will hurtle past earth at some 76,000 mph on Super Bowl Sunday.”

This may not be the half-time show that Justin Timberlake envisioned.

If NFL owners want bigger ratings, we suspect that bringing all the fans to their knees during the National Anthem is hardly the way to do it. Pray that the asteroid lands in Canada, preferably on Oak Island, in order to open up the Money Pit.

We cannot imagine which team will benefit from an asteroid strike on Frostbite Falls, Minnesota. One likely ramification of an asteroid hitting will be that the concussion protocol will be needed for everyone.

Tom Brady will likely assure us that his TB12 Method will transcend even asteroids about the plummet to Earth and kill all of us.

Boston pundits are now claiming that this is all part of Bill Belichick’s plan of disinformation to upset the Philadelphia Eagles. The only action that might be more disruptive and disturbing will be to have President Trump show up for the coin-toss.

According to Sarah Suckerbee Hitchens, White House press and pull bully, the asteroid has been banned from entering the United States by Executive Order.

Chief-of-Staff John Kelly, another Patriot fan, has hinted that the powers over at Area 51 will deflect the asteroid to Philadelphia where the damage will be considered less than a disaster zone.

How much damage could a nearly 2000-foot-wide asteroid damage do when it hits Tom Brady at 76,000 miles per hour? We suspect little– as his new TV series shows that his head may be denser than an asteroid, slower than a speeding bullet, and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.

Asteroids be damned, the half-time extravaganza must go on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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.

Pats Put One Down & Pull One Over Titans

DATELINE: Pottsdam Around the Corner

big three of Foxboro The New Pottsdam?

It will be hard to remember the Titans as anything more than a box checked off along the way to the Super Bowl by the start of another season.

You could say the Pats put down the Titans, avoiding any clash of the symbols. They put the Titans out of their misery of bad coaching and inept oversight.

Coach/Swami/Svengali Belichick should have been charged a timeout for even holding a red flag with the game in the bag. If ever you wanted evidence that the sidelines belong to Belichick, not Alex Guerrero or Tom Brady, you had only to watch the bumbling Belichick with his red flag remedy and comedy.

If Marcus Mariota could catch his own pass last week, Belichick surely could catch and rescind his own red flag. Alas, it fell to the ground unceremoniously, was denied, and cost Belichick for his hubris.

 The Titans were over-cooked in Belichick’s microwave, whether you waved a red flag or a white flag.

If any news came out of the victory over the Titans by the Patriots, it was in the taciturn attitude of James Harrison, erstwhile Steeler. The former Pittsburgh legend is about as talkative as Bill, his coach. We know all about birds of a feather.

Harrison told reporters and the media in a post game interview that he will not be watching football this weekend. He’s a fan of the Cartoon Network. We aren’t sure if we should put him down as a Daffy fan, or a Sylvester wannabe.

What better way to describe the upcoming meeting of the nouveau Big Three. Yes, we are talking about damn Potsdam. That’s where the Big Three held a conference setting the boundaries on the Cold War.

On the day when a horrifying attack alert shuddered the residents over in Hawaii that incoming missiles were expected from North Korea, the bomb actually hit Tennessee.

Nary a tweet was heard round the world from Donald Trump.

Humanitarians decry the humiliation sent to the Titans as part of the Belichick-Kraft-Brady wars. The game was overshadowed by the announcement that another peace conference was at hand, post-season to ease the “tension” around Patriot Place in History.

Scorched Earth of Belichick

DATELINE:  What Follows

Saluting BB

Fans may be a little disconcerted to learn that, if Bill Belichick leaves the New England Patriots in a snit, he will destroy everything he has created and leave mere ashes to his successor, whoever that dumb associate is.

If you think Josh McDaniels or Matt Patricia is prepared to pick up the pieces, or capable of saving the franchise, you will not be surprised they are moving onward.

Scorched Earth will mean that whatever is left will be in a messy state: like an aging Brady and his guru Guerrero running the team. Doddering Robert Kraft will surrender more power to his dim-wit son. We’ve seen in other cases of primogeniture how that works out in the NFL.

Will Bill depart after this season, perhaps with yet another Super Bowl trophy, and return the Pats back to their pathetic Patsie ways before he arrived? Ah, yes, the happy days of Pete Carroll!

Look at what may happen. The Patriots will have a 41-year-old quarterback on his last legs. His successor-in-emergency will be Brian Hoyer, a man who has lost in seven franchises.

Coordinators Josh McDaniels and Matt Patricia will happily move on to other teams.

Front office genius Nick Caserio will leave for greener pastures.

Without Jimmy G, the Patriot future is bleak. Perhaps he will re-sign in free agency.

Otherwise, Brian Hoyer will mostly help the aging Brady on and off the field for the next five to ten years.

It was always the strategy of the Roman emperors to leave the nation in worse hands after his departure.

The logic was that the former emperor, now gone, will be much better appreciated if those taking up his job and his successors are deplorable.

Time and time again in Ancient Rome, the Empire crumbled because worse and worse emperors followed each other, rewarded because they would insure the previous leader was missed, appreciated, and honored.

There is no head coach on earth who can follow Bill Belichick.  The crying of fans will have just begun.

 

What comes in his wake when he leaves is the fall of the Patriot Empire.

 

 

 

 

 

Monkeys & Weasels in the NFL

DATELINE: Crying Over Spoiled Milk

brady mirror

Resting players in anticipation of playing big games in the future is a bit like counting your chickens before they’re hatched. The Pittsburgh Steelers plan to rest their most important players, which sounds like a bunch of chickens uncounted.

The Patriots plan to play their most important players, which sounds like a roundabout way of driving off a short pier.

Granted, the Steelers are playing the worst team in the NFL, which could have a bearing on driving off the infamous bridge. The Cleveland Browns are looking for a perfect season, one without any victories. But the Steelers plan is to make Cleveland work for it.

We admire any team that expects to achieve victory in the face of overwhelming defeat or playing with two left feet.

For the faded Browns and grounded Jets, the chance to win will be a hollow moral victory in a final regular season game. They would confound their opponents who are NFL nemeses, over and out.

The concept has been around for many years, called being Spoilers.

A loss by the Patriots might even cruel Fate’s fickle finger when two replays overturned two recent games into Patriot victories.

Injuries, possible to Gronk and Brady in the last game, would be even more extreme examples of fickle fate screwing the Patriots out of the Super Bowl. Playing their franchise stars may be risky business, but may also be the only business worth doing.

The Steelers don’t take that chance. The Patriots must take that chance.

All analysis may be wasted if the games are fixed, and fate shall play no hand in victory, no matter what you hope.

We will be watching overturned replays like a man on the flying trapeze, expecting the greatest of ease not to be a daring stunt.  Or we may be watching the monkey chasing the proverbial weasel. Indeed, that may be the best metaphor to describe the Steelers chasing the Patriots.

The Big Sneeze is upon us.

 

 

 

Older Than Dirt: Tom Brady & James Harrison

 DATELINE:  Old Folks Find a Home

 older than dirt Nearly 8 Decades of Life Experience

Knowing the Patriots may have to face the Steelers sometime down the road in those playoffs, diabolical Bill Svengali Belichick has found another Trilby.

James Harrison, one-time monster of the midway, was jettisoned by the hapless front office of the Steelers after an illustrious career.

There was only one way to go up: he called the Patriots.

Now together again for the first time, Tom and James are so old they actually remember the last century.

When James Harrison shows up in Foxboro with a calling card that states he wants to win a Super Bowl. Tom gives him an Annie Oakley for the Playoffs.

One-time adversary of Tom Brady, it did not take long for Harrison, age 39, to bond with someone of his own generation, Brady, age 40.

Both are workaholics and, despite never engaging in the TB12 Method, James Harrison does look remarkably youthful.

He and Brady posed happily with Harrison making note, “Finally…a teammate that’s older than me.”

In NFL terms, these guys are older than dirt. Only Adam Vinatieri, Tom’s one-time big brother, is still playing. Tom never thinks that Colts uniform looks quite right on Adam whom he calls “Grandpaw Walton.”

We presume everyone will feel Harrison was meant for Patriot colors. Orange towels are so gauche.

As often happens at the end of a season, the Patriots find someone who makes two or three key plays in a big game and helps everyone find a duck boat for their trip down Memory Lane and Boylston Street.

Are we jumping the gun? No, because the man who might sack Brady will now have his cross-hairs on Big Ben, for whom the bell now tolls.

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).

 

Mile High Has Enough Air for Patriots

 

DATELINE:  Like Peaches & Herb, Brady & Bennett Sing

Peaches & Herb

What used to give the Patriots the bends is now like air from a deflated football.

Denver used to send chills down the spine of their quarterback; now Tom Brady seems as home in the stadium as Peyton Manning where noise in the clouds hinders most.

With a convincing victory, it’s on to Mexico City where the air is half a mile thinner at 7000 feet. Thank you, Roger Goodell, for such a schedule. You deserve $50million per year and a private jet for life.

Now see if Jerry Jones has any intention of giving you anything more than the air out of a Tom Brady football.

The Pats seemed like their old selves in both defense and offense.

In terms of offense, despite the curse of the broken mirror, the more things change, the more it seems like last season. Why, bless our pointed heads, fans, but there on the field was Martellus Bennett, the original black unicorn.

Though facing surgery in Frost Bite Falls with the Packers and embroiled in legal issues, he was able to catch several Brady passes for great yardage, giving Gronk all he wanted for Christmas.

Von Miller, vaunted Denver defender, might exchange Instagram challenges with Tom Brady, as they did this week, but when push comes to shove, millennial photos on social media are not enough to sack Brady.

In terms of the dangerous seat next to Brady on the bench, vacant often this season since the disappearance of Julian Edelman, like the kidnapping of a Getty grandson, it found a new occupant.

Fearless of curses, and familiar as an old shoe, Brian Hoyer thought nothing of sitting next to Brady while the Denver offense sputtered on the field with their former great Manning replacement having returned to no avail and little consequence.

When it comes to homecoming reunions, no one does it better than the Patriots and Marty Bennett.

On to the deflated atmosphere of earthquaking Mexico City.

 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

Return of Martellus?

 DATELINE:  Patriot Resurrection Possible

memories

Martellus Bennett, the tight end who danced with the cheerleaders at the Super Bowl last season, and bailed out of the Patriots for Green Bay, is now available.

Is Bill Belichick interested?  It may well be, based on Bill’s past history; he loves to resurrect the dead.

Martellus (Don’t Call Me Marty) Bennett has been a flop out there in Frost Bite Falls, and with no great QB (Aaron Rodgers broke his collarbone) to sustain his antics, he may be ready for Tommy Time.

Poor Martellus has been bereft and without any TDs—or friends.  He played seven lackluster games with the Cheese Packers. With some disagreement about his medical condition, and with a threat he will retire after eight more games, Bennett made himself available to other teams when Green Bay sent him packing.

He needs to reconnect with the Brady bunch to regain his equilibrium.

The sudden move reminds us of the strange situation with the Pittsburgh Steelers a few years back who released a certain player for the Patriots to pick up just in time for a playoff run.

Now, the dire need of another tight end could mean that Belichick is considering more reunions.

He just brought back Lazarus Brian Hoyer from the dead San Fran 49ers.

So, returning a Gronk complement from the Cheesey Green Bay team seems rather likely.

Can Danny Woodhead be far behind? Might Rob Ninkovitch come out of retirement?

Bennett, fan of sci-fi, author of a kid’s book before Julian Edelman, savant of nothing in particular, was a delight in the locker room for his teammates and a media darling.

Will Belichick take another oddball tight end to go with the masterpiece of TEs, Gronk? We hope so.

Trick or Treat, Belichick Style

 DATELINE:  Yes, We Have No Bananas

Did Bill Belichick just put a razor blade in Patriot fans’ apple?  Or like the serpent in the Garden of Eden, did he simply offer the Apple to the Sodom and Gomorrah team of America?

Shock waves continue to reverberate around New England as the man in the Grim Reaper costume goes door to door, locker to locker, looking for another trick to pull.

Tom Brady, youthful optimist, wished another of his long-term second-bananas the best of luck. Poor Jimmy G will need it with the band of merry losers out by the Golden Gate.

The revolving door of quarterbacks likely means that Belichick has another sleight of hand at the ready before the end of trade deadline. We are not privy to the inner machinations of the Machiavelli of football.

We would suggest that Drew Bledsoe will not come out of retirement for the Patriots. Their last-ditch quarterback replacement always was Julian Edelman who is now wearing his costume for the big Day of the Dead festival in Foxboro.

We already let the black cat out of the bag before tossing him into the Charles River by mentioning the name of Brian Hoyer, long-time Shemp to the stooges who wait in vain for Brady to grow old.

Brady is smiling like Alfred E. Neumann because he knows that he will never age and will never lose a step.

Does Robert Kraft have Colin Kaepernick’s smartphone number on speed dial? We await the special prosecutor investigation of the Jimmy G deal.

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.

This Week in Patriot Superstition

 DATELINE:  The Devil You Say?

 off off-season     Most Off Off-Season Ever!

If you wait for Bill Belichick to let you know what’s going on in Patriot Nation, you’d be the victim of a fake news blockage.

Stephone Gilmore, one-time scapegoat of the big loss two weeks ago, suddenly has developed a concussion and will be unavailable for Sunday’s big game against the New York Jets.

The Jets, usually Pat patsies, are looking like the team Rex Ryan always hoped they would be. So, for the Pats to abruptly announce that Gilmore, one of their high-priced staples, is now suffering sudden concussion is a big deal. It is also a bit weird.

There were no reports of Gilmore injuries all week.

Maybe he fell in the bathtub. Perhaps he had one of those latent concussions that befall Tom Brady. His wife insists he has them, but Tom has no memory of that—and plays regardless of any headaches.

On top of this, another Patriot had to be extricated from his car in a terrible three-car accident on the way to Foxboro Friday night. He was rear-ended—and now he too is out for the foreseeable future. This is rookie Harvey Langi who was with his wife. Both have serious injury and have been hospitalized.

The fluke problems continue to mount up on the Patriots. We know the root cause, but no one is talking about it.

Just a few months ago, Tom Brady tempted fate deliberately by challenging superstition. He smashed a mirror with a hammer and walked under a ladder to prove there was nothing to these old tales of impending doom.

No one is laughing now.  And no one is acknowledging that Tom has been foolhardy once too often. He must think those special pajamas he wears make him look and behave like Spiderman.

Instead, he looks like the man with arachnophobia.

The rest of us are foaming at the mouth with Friday the 13th worries.

If the Jets beat the Patriots following a jinx day of the week, you know that Tom has tempted fate and called in the Devil’s boys.

We should warn Tom that the Devil is the author of confusion and often takes a pleasing form. The Devil is in the details and in the Botox. Every day a little Devil.