N.E. Patriots Meet a Slump, a Speed Bump, and a Pothole

Lady Luck!

DATELINE:  Going Down!

Mother of Mercy, can this be the end of the Patriot juggernaut of two decades? The road to glory seems to have run out of pavement.

After a glorious 20-year run, spending most of the time in first place in the hearts of Patriots Nation, the home town team seems to have hit a bump in the road. At least there are no sinkholes ahead. They are sinking in one now.

Yes, the Patriots are no longer in sole possession of the top spot to the playoffs. They are in their first slump of of the 21stcentury. When your first slump comes with the dog days of a pandemic, you are about to find cause to worry that rivals the Black Death in sports.

The last time a Patriots team came into a prolonged slump, they went into the poop chute faster than you can say Shaeffer Stadium.

We are more inclined to worry this time. There is no way they can equal the sinking of the titanic teams of the 1970s, which stands as a benchmark of hubris. We saw the past, and the future looks much the same.

This time their QBs have gone soft. We have not exactly seen a team with endless TD power, but their ability to make timely scores has lost more games than expected.

Now the dinner bell, like the guns over Flanders Field, have gone silent. Scarce heard below are the dead Pats of previous seasons hoping the present underdogs have caught the torch and will hold it high.

Short days ago the Patriots won, Brady looked younger than youth, and Bill Belichick looked like a genius, but now the Pats are starting to look like the embalmed teams of the yesteryear, or like the Jets.

Cheer up, fans! This may be only an aberration on the road to the Super Bowl. . A team with character knows their fate is in the hands of Bill Belichick and Cam Newton.

Move over, Black Death. The Pats need more room.

Candlelight Dinner with Patriots

 DATELINE: Hot Time in New England

When we heard a wife of a New England Patriots player has denied her husband had dinner out with another player, we became intrigued.

The wife is always the last to know, and in New England, your sports radio maggots can be found under foot everywhere.

Yes, Cam Newton and Stephon Gilmore may be the most beautiful men on the team: each is a star on the opposite side of the ball. Heavens, is it a match? Did Gilmore take pity on lonely Cam whose family is half-way across the country?

We know that if Cam had dinner with Julian Edelman, it would be playing favorites, supplanting himself in the heart of Tom Brady’s former matchmate. However, Cam is too smart for that: he keeps his dinner companions outside the arena where you might be called out for being out with a favorite.

Stephone and Cam may be up a tree, but they are not out.

No one is posting an incriminating photo over sushi. No one is finding them sharing a bucket of chicken wings.

 And, now Gilmore’s wife has weighed in, denying that she is a co-respondent or a woman scorned. She never admitted she was hiding under the dinner table, or the bed. But she knows the true story, at least according to what her husband tells her.

Oh, both men will be back in uniform for Sunday, and no one is asking if they will be sharing a Big Mac or an Egg McMuffin in the pre-game morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

Is Cam Newton a Maroon?

DATELINE:  All Routes Lead to Idiocy

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In case you have forgotten, Cam Newton reminded you that it’s his picture you find next to the expression “Dumb Jock” in the Encyclopedia of Sports Idiocy.

In the immortal words of the great American philosopher Bugs Bunny: “What a maroon!”

Yes, Cam did it again at a press conference. He told everyone how funny it was to hear a female sports reporter talk about routes. Cam’s favorite movie is Where the Boys Are—because he knows the route, having gone that route many times for a few bucks.

Women never talk to Cam about anything of substance. In fact, Cam is more at home with the boys and shop talk where the only playbook he reads is mostly x and o demonstrated.

He is just another pretty face in a bubble head to match his bubble butt.

Cam will never be caught with a pencil behind his ear like a nerd. We doubt that he knows how to hold a pencil or can work anything out on paper.

Yes, Cam is extremely beautiful to look at, but you probably can’t take him many places unless he is on a leash and you have your doggie bag with you.

If football ends tomorrow for the Giant Fig Newton, he can always use those amazing talents to star in gay porn where a giant brain is the least of your worries.

Don’t get us wrong: we find Cam easy on the eyes and we have enough brains for the two of us.

Sore Loser or Bill Belichick’s Heir Apparent?

DATELINE: Losing is for Losers

Cam Shows No Zebra Stripes!

Cam Newton appears to be the worst loser of the year. Yet, we found his antisocial responses to a feeding frenzy media to be like chum to a shark. The media loves anything out of the ordinary, and Cam gave them plenty.

Having a game taken away by bad officiating, worse appeals from HQ, and players doing inexplicable things, make for a game that seems to be scripted.

It was Manning’s year—albeit his last. Sullen, morose, sulking, unpleasant, disgusted, Cam Newton turned us into his new, biggest fan.

NFL braintrust likely said Cam will win one next time, or next, or next. Of course, in the brutal world of injury and worse, concussion, there is no telling a player he will have the world as his oyster next year.

Life in the NFL does not work that way.

If we were to nominate a player trying his darnedest to lose the game, we choose Tarique Allbibe, the former Patriot. If his play against the Panters was any indication of his mindset, he really wanted to revenge the Pats.

When teams are suddenly uncharacteristically bad, you have to wonder what is going on. The Old Panters looked pathetic.

We do think the Oscar goes this year to Cam Newton for his postgame press conference in which he imitated Bill Belichick. He must have been studying the tapes for media contempt quotient.

Dressed like the Great Hoodie, his monosyllabic comments provided no insight into his feeling about being robbed. Cam may have risen in Bill Belichick’s eyes after the loss. Here was a man who knows how to dismiss the greedy, gaudy press.

Super Bowl to Miss

 DATELINE:  This Year’s Miss Super Bowl?

Unless there is something news worthy, we will not be looking with our usual fish-eye at the Super Bowl.

If we have any insights at all, it’s that the bowl is either filled with punch, or needs to be flushed.

And if the comments of Roger Goodell at his press conference this week indicate anything of note, it is that you better flush this Bowl twice. It’s a long way for crap to travel.

Fairy tale endings require a fix. You can’t have an aging, injured quarterback suddenly come to life—unless it’s a Disney movie.

You can’t have the NFL burying the HGH under the 50 Logo at half-time, but men with shovels are not excavators for Al Jazeera.

We won’t even be tempted to peek at this Super Bowl. We heard Lady Gaga is performing the National Anthem as a testament to British rock star David Bowie. Hmmm. Don’t start the Revolution without a redcoat or a maroon coat.

Apparently there are plenty of people still interested in NFL shenanigans after a long season of suffering obtuse moroons gladly. We do expect the lowest ratings in quite some time. The commercials may be the real entertainment.

We understand the NFL is giving MLB a thumbing of the nose by letting Pete Rose do a commercial for fantasy bettors. Don’t let the moneybags hit you on the way out the door.

Tom Brady plans to show up at an event for all the living and breathing MVPs of the game. Those not present have headaches from their concussions and a letter from their doctor to excuse the absence.

Cam Newton’s Zebra Stripes Rival Refs

DATELINE:  Cam Breaks Cam

Cam Newton does not have a matching leopard skin pillbox hat.

On the way to the Super Bowl, he did wear his $1000 Versace zebra pantaloons. This jean is overlaid with gold to match his fillings.

In some circles this is a fashion statement. In other circles this is de rigueur wear for Circle de Soleil performers.

If he looks like he just stepped off a road company stage production of The Lion King, you might be on the right track to find poachers who are stalking him. He is obviously a trophy case collectible.

We haven’t seen such outrageous pants since codpieces adorned gawkers at the Gay Pride Parade in San Francisco. Newton may be a few years too late for the hippies, but he is likely to arrive in San Fran with flowers in his hair.

If you think Newton is a flash in the pan-ts, then you will be drawn to his drawstring motif.

To offset the look of a zebra’s hindquarters, Cam also wore a simple, basic black leather coat. No animals were harmed in the making of his fashion statement, though they may have hurt feelings.

In case you forgot, Newton is a Panther. No, not a Black Panther, and not taking Pan African roots for granted, he has sent the Twitter world atwitter.

Apparently, gay website Grindr was offline—and all the users were agog at the go-go boy attire of their new pinup boy hero.

If you think Super Bowl week is like a petting zoo, you likely will be breaking out the cameras for a photo shoot of Cam.

 

 

Cam Doublechecks Aaron and Doesn’t Give a Fig Newton

DATELINE: Yes, We Have No Banners

 

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Sharing Sweet Nothings

Cam Newton, pinup boy and would-be Abercrombie & Fitch model, ripped down an opposing team banner at his home stadium this Sunday.

Don’t get Cam wrong. He loves some Green Bay Cheese Packers. (To wit, his long-standing bromance with Aaron Rodgers).

In a tough guy stance, the Newton who doesn’t give a fig for fans, chose to defang a local resident who happened to prefer the Cheeseheads of Wisconsin. Newton tore down and shredded a banner that expressed hubris and preferred another QB to him.

Newton has nothing against his opponents. He was seen yucking it up before the game with fellow commercial boytoy Aaron Rodgers.  For years we watched Rodgers try evasive maneuvers with his cheesy stalker (an androgynous double-checker). So, athletic supporters, beware your athlete’s diva moments.

Whenever QBs meet, their fraternity has more secrets than the freemasons. As for the key Cheesehead, QB Aaron Rodgers has no problems with Cam’s preferences.

Cam and Aaron always share an intimate moment, even if it is before 50,000 prying eyes and world wide internet coverage.

So Cam probably received some kind of imprimatur from his fellow endorser of products. At least that’s what they call club bonding off the field.

The NFL hates deflated footballs, but has no problem with players who attempt murder or those who deface banners belonging to paying fans. There will be no fine or punishment for vandalism, as long as the fan’s balls were not tampered with.

The owner of the banner claimed it cost him $500 to expose himself to ridicule. That explains the disrespect Cam showed. He drops $500 on tips for yogurt deliveries to his home nearly every day.

Next time you root against Cam Newton, he may yank your fig leaf to shreds and put holes in your head of cheese.

Cam Newton Plans to Eat Tom Brady’s Giblets

DATELINE: TOMFOOLERY!

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He won’t give a fig.

They won’t be singing “Sweet Caroline,” at Gillette Stadium. It sounds too close to “Sweet Carolina.”

For those who don’t give a fig for Cam Newton, the cookie has finally crumbled. Newton is licking the crème out of the center of the NFL faster than Roger Goodell can find investigators to look into locker room hazing.

Now the Carolina Panthers, the most surprising of teams in a season of upsets and irrational injuries, will be at the throat of Tom Brady and his rejuvenated corps of rookies and nobodies.

Tom will be coming off a week of riches and well-deserved memory foam mattresses known as the “bye week.”  If just desserts are served, Tom ought to feast on Fig Newton and his crepes Suzette Carolina upstarts.

We are compelled to note, however mealy-mouthed it sounds, that Cam Newton is putting more notches on his gun than anyone ever suspected possible. That’s not a derringer in Cam’s pocket, but a bazooka. The Panthers most recently took out San Francisco and its vaunted free-spirit tatt man QB Colin Kaepernick.

Victories like that are better than three “bye-bye” weeks in a row. The Panthers may be ready to pounce on their prey: the Patriots.

Cam probably has photo-shopped his potential winning TD against Brady’s corps de Tom Turkeys already.

The head of Tom Brady on a silver platter may belong to Cam Newton for the asking if he drops one more veil in his NFL championship dance.

‘Tis the season to chomp on Tom Brady’s giblets.

We just hope Stevan Ridley won’t drop the cranberry sauce and that Gronk continues his upward spiral of spiking the stuffing out of the ball. 

For the Pats to stave off Newtonian physics, Brady needs to turn the Red Zone into a pedestrian crossing for a bunch of receivers who can do impersonations of Wes Weckler and Danny Meathead.

Those former Patriots continue to burn weenies on the grille. The aroma of gourmet players must be wafting in the nostrils of owner Robert Kraft who went with the horsemeat filler this season to his everlasting regret.

 

To counter Newton’s buffet, Brady has shrimp on the barbie and Fig Newtons as hors d’oeuvre, and he has poured on his secret recipe for victory one more time.

Bon appetit, Patriot fans.