Brady at the Bat


Yikes, history repeated itself this weekend.

There was no joy in Mudville, nor in Foxboro.

The Mighty Brady has struck out.

Fans were thrown a curve ball, and the pitcher was an aging knuckleballer named Manning.

The bases were loaded in the bottom of the ninth, and Brady had many times in the past knocked the ball out of the park. But, on this pleasant day with ordinary meteorological conditions in the Mile High City, he was caught looking.

Back in the day the Mighty Brady would have pulled off a last second victory, but the sneer is gone from Brady’s lip, his teeth are clenched in hate at Goodell; he pounds his fists on the deflated ball, and now he lets it go.

The vengeance was shattered in Denver’s light air, and in the fans’ hearts.

Somewhere in the favored land of Foxboro, the sun will shine again; the Minutemen with their muskets will fire upon a Gronk spike; and sometime in the future, Pats’ fans will laugh, and children will shout, but for this season, the Mighty Brady has struck out.

Belichick Feeds Masses Fish Heads & Tails

DATELINE: Blessed are the Playmakers



Insiders are reporting that the Great Hoodie of Gillette City has decided to keep his ruby red slippers under wraps.

He gave nothing away in the last few games of the season when double agents, scouts, and media spies are looking for a report to help plan a strategy to defeat the New England team. What they saw likely created overconfidence and arrogance.

It has rattled athletic supporters on the home front jewels.

Once again, Coach Bill Belichick let them eat cake. And, they will starve to death on that special diet of rotten apples and stale crackers, compliments of the Great Hoodie.

There was nothing obvious in what tactics the Patriot coaches will take in the playoffs. This Belichick soup du jour is diabolical and brilliant.

Film and game plans are oft created by watching the performances and player groupings of your opponent. If they watched the Patriots in December, they learned nothing. It was not a month to remember.

In the past Belichick has relied on the notion that the brains of his next opponent are focused, like a fly, on the recent weeks of play, and they never look much beyond it with their goldfish memories.

But Belichick is like the elephantine wizard dominating the room. He recalls all, and he knows all. What he has shown to the potential adversaries in the playoffs is that his team is weak, injured, and the coaches are slipping. What a brilliant façade.

It is the ultimate Potemkin village. When the opponents drive by in their sleighs, thinking it’s a holiday, he will pounce with guerilla aplomb.

You can bet the practices over the next two weeks will have more security than Homeland provides the Congress. That is the telltale heart of Belichick at work.

Waiting Game for the Patriots



DATELINE: A New Tom Brady (no Botox needed)

The dust has settled, and the frost is on the bog. With the regular season over, a ceasefire has been called—unless you happen to be the coach of a bad team.  Then you are shot at sunrise.

A new dawn may be upon the Patriots, but fresh starts in the playoffs are like New Year’s resolutions. They don’t last long.

Belichick swore to protect his players from additional injury, but it didn’t take long for someone to try to break Tom’s ankle.

Grandmama’s healing recipes are now in full force in a desperate attempt to make an entire team healthy in a fortnight. To remind us of how fragile life is, the last season of Downton Abbey coincided with the Patriots’ whimpering end.

Grand lifestyles come to an end eventually. The Earl of Grantham learned how tenuous the world of excess can be on the television show, and king of undrafted players, Lord Belichick, learned how quickly success can turn in its own grave.

Twenty NFL teams are now staffed by exclusive Monday morning quarterbacks. And, their job is to clean out the locker.

Most bridesmaids never catch that bouquet—and Tom’s receivers, like Gronk, never caught a pass in that last gasp attempt to hold onto the backyard advantages.

If you believe in fixes, you likely watched Peyton Manning coming off the bench to lead the Denver Broncos out of the wilderness. It looked like a script by Roger Goodell and carried out by his minions in striped shirts.

The NFL is desperate to crash Brady’s Good Ship Lollipop on the reefs of every disadvantage. The hero of this season can be anyone named Cam Newton.

Patriots Lost on Revis Island?

DATELINE: On Gilligan’s Island Before Playoffs

The rats are abandoning the Good Ship of Lollipop Brady. You can swim to the nearby island belonging to the good Dr. Goodell Moreau of sports where you will be hunted down like a deflated ballboy.

As the game time clock is about to strike, the hickory dickory media is running down the clock before the bell tolls.

Predictions for a Jets victory over the Patriots is the latest fad. And, some are accusing the Patriots and Belichick of, you guessed it, cheating to lose. The game’s score will be within the FanDooDoo boys’ range of betting.

A Patriot loss would throw the wild cards up in the air for a game of 52 Pickup.

So, media defenders of Brady and his teammates are now looking for portholes and exits out of the cargo hold.

We have held firm to a Patriot victory as de rigueur in the scheme of NFL shenanigans. And, we subscribe to the new theory that Revis Island is the new Riker’s Island of New York.  Your huddled masses of semi-talented players will be housed there in overcrowded and teeming tenements.

Like Kong’s Island during a storm, Revis Island is on the downswing. Islands tend to sink eventually. Just ask all those survivors of Atlantis, or Santorini.

If you think you will survive a Patriots juggernaut by pulling a Robinson Crusoe on Revis Island, you are living on Fantasy Island. And, Friday is not a game day.

As John Donne would tell you, no man is an island, but the bell is tolling for the New York Jets.

NFL Blames Brady for the Ills of World

DATELINE: Goodell’s Growing Paranoia

NFL Seeks Tom Brady’s Head

The NFL’s latest brief against Tom Brady in a court appeal of their Deflate-gate catastrophe is shocking.

With each legal step, the NFL seems to change the charges against Tom.

In a regular judicial proceeding, this would be unconstitutional. In the NFL it is in the best tradition of Adolph Hitler and colleagues at the local concentration camps.

Now the Roger Goodell kookoo bird contingent feels Brady has undermined confidence in the game and eroded public goodwill. They stop short of accusing him of poisoning the water supply of every team in the NFL except New England. If you believe the hyped up and hopped up attorneys on retainer for the NFL, then you may begin to think conservative Tom is on the payroll of some radical Islamic terrorist group.

Next, we expect Brady to be nominated by the NFL for the no-fly list. That would effectively stop him from playing in most games of the season.

Yet, on the same day, the public whom the NFL says is jaded and disenfranchised by Brady actually made him the biggest vote getter of the NFL for the Pro Bowl.

It smells distinctly like the media campaign against Donald Trump. The more the public supports him, the more the media disparages him with false charges, accusing him of being unfit to be president. It sounds like the same people who hate Brady also hate Trump.

The Wells report originally charged Brady with being “generally aware” of deflated footballs, but now the NFL feels he is orchestrating one of the great conspiracies in the history of the world. Move over, John Wilkes Booth and shooter on the grassy knoll.

The NFL is soon to reveal a magic bullet that Brady used to deflate balls by means of voodoo and paranormal influence.

Save us from the maroons of the NFL.

New England Patriots Stuck in a Time Warp

DATELINE:  Sports Humor



 Has the Grinch stolen the Patriots Super Bowl 50?

Roger Goodell is smiling ear-to-ear this week.

For the better part of 17 years, fans of football have thought Bill Belichick was the Grinch, but now he is clearly off the hook. Scrooge, yes. Grinch, no.

We suppose that Cam Newton is wearing his Grinch outfit this year, pretender to the throne. If you want a throwback to Tom Brady a decade ago, Cam Newton is your clone. Send in the clones.

Apparently Tom Brady has used up his three wishes—and now the evil sorcerer Roger Goodell is about to drop a house on the Patriots candidate for the Ponce de Leon Award.

Watching the Patriots lose a second game in a row has been like trying to finish a 2000-piece jigsaw puzzle, only to discover a key piece in dead center is missing.

The genie in the bottle has popped out, if not pooped out, and stolen Tom’s magical flying carpet.

Some smart-aleck trolls on the Internet have taken to saying that it’s time for the Patriots to start cheating again. On our part we have never considered using the supernatural to win the Super Bowl to be anything but a quantum physics.

However, it’s beginning to look like Sergeant Pepper’s Band has abandoned the Patriots just as the Magical Mystery Tour is about to commence.

If, as Bill Belichick has often said, December is when the real season begins, the Patriots have reverse engineered 2015. Belichick’s Delororean has four flat tires and an ejection seat that hits the door on the way out

You begin to wonder if Roger Goodell exposed Tom Brady to the Hope Diamond.



The Wiz of Foxboro Goes Live on Sunday

DATELINE: On to the Yellow Brick Road

The Wiz

Unlike T-Rex Ryan of Jurassic Buffalo, Chipmunk Kelly wants to kill the Patriots with kindness. How else do you explain the syrupy mess that he has oozed all over Bill Belichick and Tom Brady?

T-Rex won’t genuflect and kiss the rings of Belichick, but Chipper the K is ready to canonize the Patriots and send them to the NFL equivalent of nirvana in Canton, Ohio.

We cannot dispute the politically correct Kelly. Bill Belichick will give him more than the time of day at the end of the game on Sunday when the Patriots will kick the Eagle out of his aerie and take the Emerald City.

Kelly likely hopes his kindness will beget kindness from the master of strategic kill. Belichick has not been able to issue any “take no prisoners” order lately.

Belichick has had a week to think about not having anyone with true ability to catch a Brady pass. There will be compensations made and dispensations not given. We expect his brain-trust aides have found new ways to defend onslaughts on Brady’s crown by stopping him from falling down and breaking into pieces.

If the Great Hoodie is anything like Queen Latifah playing the Great Oz, he will use all his guile to keep anyone on the Eagles from discovering that the wizard behind the curtain is a little man using great PR.

This is Belichick’s moment to show that the Wizard of Foxboro Park can dispatch any of the evil sisters of the NFL with their flying monkeys in referee suits.

If The Wiz Live can be a big hit on TV as its Broadway tryout, then the Patriots may take the cue and not let the House of NFL land on their star quarterback.


Masters of Suspension: Hitch a Wagon to Goodell

Featured image

Yes, The Noose Hangs High for Abbot and Costello was great cinema. So was Clint Eastwood’s High’em High. Hanging Tom Brady in effigy cannot hold a candle in comparison.

If you are waiting like Madame Defarge with your knitting needles before the guillotine, you could be knitting your brow before you knit an Afghan comforter. In a world of tit for tat, Tom Brady won’t be climbing those steps to his own execution.

The NFL wants to hand out suspensions in cold blood.

Suspension madness, as practiced by Goodell, is nothing short of a Death Wish. But Roger is no Charles Bronson, and his victims are about to wish upon a star like Tom.

Roger Goodell is likely to be waiting at the top of the Empire State Building in the rain, hoping for an end to this Affair to Remember.

Roger Goodell may be standing up there atop the altar, like one of those Mayan heart throb chisellers, but Tom’s heart will keep pumping up those NFL fans. It will be Apocalypto for Goodell.

Death May Come for the Archbishop, but Tom Brady will not fall off the Bridge of San Luis Rey, no matter how Wilder it becomes in Our Town.

After presiding over his own version of the Monkey Trial, Goodell is ready to Inherit the Wind.

When it comes to executing a four game suspension for Tom, Death Takes a Holiday. We are listening for the uplift of Copeland’s Appalachian Spring to sound its clarion call.

If it takes until the First Monday in October to find a court injunction, Tom will stop the Star Chamber from filling with noxious gas.





Not One Cent for Ted Wells’ Tribute

DATELINE: Unfunny Hear, Hear

Featured image

If you think Ted Wells, author of the Deflategate Inquisition Damnation document wants to be at the hearing of Tom Brady in New York, you’d be way off target—sort of like his report.

The ostensible subject of the hearing is allegedly Brady. However, the real man in the hot seat is Ted Wells.

He will earn his six million dollar, inflated legal fee on Tuesday when he becomes the man in the Star Chamber. If he doesn’t make sense, Roger Goodell may ask for his money back. At the least, Wells may find his future earnings in jeopardy—and never given again a lucrative by the hour stipend to write a blanket indictment of an NFL player,

Yes, it seems Wells may be a bit uncomfortable, albeit defensive, when Brady high-priced attorneys have at him. We are looking at a shark attack, in which the sharks will be eating each other.

When they’re done, they may eat Goodell when the owners take the legal fees out of his hide and his $44million salary for the year.

When millions are spent for defense, there is not much chance you will see objectivity anywhere.

Paying tribute will make for some dramatic moments. Ted Wells may go down with the pirates of Tripoli as one of the biggest crooks on record.

Ted Wells, not Tom Brady, will be on the hot seat. And he may want a do-nut cushion to sit on that is fully inflated. But Tom’s lawyers will be letting the NFL mouthpiece feel the full effects of a psi during his prolonged testimony.

Celtics Look Smart and Go Young



Rondo Under Cone of Silence

When the Boston Celtics draft Maxwell Smart, you know he must have gone higher than 86.

We wait for the day that Smart tells Danny Ainge, “Sorry about that, Chief!”

Did anyone pull the Cone of Silence down upon the Boston Celtics before the media went wild? Yes, the media had predicted Embiid and Exum as the Boston best choices. No one had the Smarts to know how Young the Celtics would go.

Whether Marcus turns out to be a Smart-aleck or another dumbbell, only the first season will tell. In the meantime, the Celtics may be looking to see if Love will be exchanged for Smart Young players.

Marcus Smart is from Oklahoma where the corn grows as high as an elephant’s eye. Of course, someone with Smarts will point out that corn does not grow in Oklahoma, despite what Rogers and Hammerstein told us.

You don’t have to be a Smarty-pants to wonder what jersey Max will wear next season. Will the Smart money be enough to sign this outstanding young agent of change?

Smart earlier this year looked more like Metta World Peace than Cedric Maxwell. He went into the stands to go after a fan he deemed overly critical, making us wonder whether the Cone of Silence will fall on anyone in Smart’s circle if free speech is an issue.

The Smart money is on Avery Bradley having lost his job this night. A few think it means Rajon Rondo may be heading to any club where Carmelo Anthony plays next season.

If anyone thought the fireworks were over, they aren’t Smart enough to know the Fourth of July is next week.

Encyclopedia of Sports Idiocy



If you were to ask sports humorists whether there is enough material to fill an encyclopedia of moronic sports players, you would elicit a laugh out loud.

In an age when sports players in some of the most mundane of sports, and players of the most modest of abilities, are paid by the yardstick of wealth beyond dreams, you would find anyone at the professional level has made it.

Now comes another whimsical book, on both softcover and ebook version, that targets some of our favorite foibles and follies.

Not since the Ziegfeld Follies has there been an array of emperors parading without clothes.

William Russo, also known by the erstwhile moniker of Ossurworld and Dateline: Humor, has been dispensing his particular style of venom now for many years on a variety of websites. He was banned from Bleacher Reports and found his titles appropriated by others on MTR Media. But he keeps plugging away.

His favorite targets have found themselves in books dedicated to their own brand:  Rajon Rondo: Superstar, LeBron James and the Plague of Seven Rings, Compleat Gronk, Shakespeare in Sports and others have volumes dedicated to the vanities of their careers and personal flaws.

Now Russo has put together a compendium from A to Z that includes other notables like Rex Ryan, Kris Humphries, and David Ortiz.

The most frequent mentions do go to the Boston teams that strive to dominate national talk:  the Patriots, the Red Sox, and the Celtics all have claimed the territorial designation “Nation.”


No good deed goes unpunished. No flash is immoral. In the latest volume ENCYCLOPEDIA OF SPORTS IDIOCY, you will feast on another smorgasbord of bad puns, appalling literary references