Tom Brady Wins Another One

DATELINE:  More or Less Tom Foolery

duke & duchess of Foxboro

Winning the MVP of the NFL 24 hours before you play in a Super Bowl has to take away some motivation for Tom Brady. More honor for the man, less honor than you can muster for any man who has done nothing life-saving, society-protecting, or civilization-advancing.

Brady is a man who uses slights, insults, demeaning treatment, disparaging disrespect to move him to greater heights. To win his third Most Valuable Player award, at age 40, undercuts and guts his psychological attack mode.

How can he use this to intensify his desire to win his sixth Super Bowl?

These are the conundrums of being the so-called Greatest of All Time, GOAT, that must haunt the man before he sleeps this night.

Were we all to have such worries, such issues, such difficulties to face in life, we’d all be happy campers.

Tom Brady cannot be happy about this award, which a few have said was won because everyone else was injured and fell out of contention.

Perhaps that insult is motivation to go out tomorrow and slam-dunk the Eagles.

With so much hype, so many distractions, so much tom-foolery in every story for the past two weeks, for the past twenty years, how can Tom Brady stand one more night of it?

In his ridiculous home movie reality series, he tells his wife Giselle that he wants merely two more Super Bowl rings. It does not compute for a man who has ten digits on two hands.

How will he sleep tonight before the big game? It’s all tom-foolery to ask.

 

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Safe & Secure NFL Players

 DATELINE: Crime Watch, NFL-Style

Zo mark

Community policing is alive and well in Frostbite Falls, at the Super Bowl.

Rest easy, you Patriots and Eagles, in the sanctity of your locker rooms.

Your NFL security is at work—unlike last year when someone in the fake media had the temerity to take Tom Brady’s blouse when he stripped down.

This year no player will lose his shirt—or pants—before he is ready to surrender them to the Hall of Fame.

The media isn’t the only one with a chip on its shoulder. Now, the NFL is making sure that fake media have been given the chip that is usually associated with your pet. Not under the skin yet.

If a member of the press does not press in or out, the computer will mark them out permanently. Heaven forbid that some careless sports reporter mislays his innocence.

If you lose your chip, you won’t be able to cash in.

Players no longer need fear losing their pants, but their heads and hearts still belong to the media member with the biggest calling card.

It’s a short jump betwixt the shower and the stall and your memorabilia will no longer be available for grabs like some wedding dress at the discount bridal store. The worst that can happen is that someone may sniff your jockstrap, but they will leave it on you (for those who wear undergarments—not many based on our unofficial count).

When you go to the shower, or to visit the winner’s circle, you may rest easy that upon returning, your uniform will be pressed into some branded designer bag, ready to go home, as you are either nursing your wounds, or stuffing your pants with confetti from the winner’s circle.

 

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rocky Time for Super Bowl Losers

DATELINE:  Wagering on Super Bowl LII

Rocky M Rocky

In an unparalleled version of fake news, the real Rocky will be the subject of a wager against the fake Rocky.

You guessed it:  those publicity-seeking mayors are wagering on their respective teams again. Philadelphia versus the City of Champions, Brockton.  It’s the fictional Rocky Balboa of movies versus Rocky Marciano whose original retreat was Brockton. All those Rocky movies with Sylvester Stallone were set in Philly. Since the Patriots and Eagles are fighting it out in the Super Bowl, the mayors saw their chance and pounced.

If the Eagles win, the statue of Rocky Marciano will be decked out in Philly cheese-steak and, if the Patriots win, clam chowdah will be dumped on Rocky Balboa.

It must be an election year. In any respect, Mayors Kenney of Philly and Carpenter of Brockton met recently at a mayors’ conference in Washington, D.C., apparently on vacation from their hometowns. There, they met between conference panels on real issues to settle the score on fake issues.

Brockton bills itself as the City of Champions (a few other boxers you may never have heard of came from there too). Alas, Brockton has been down in the dumps for years economically.

Philadelpha, home of cream-cheese and cheese-steak, bills itself as the City of Brotherly Love. Alas, Philly has its pitfalls too.

So, it’s a match of those who love champs and chumps. The loser of Super Bowl LII will wear the other city’s uniform for a time, and be subject to thrown rotten tomatoes and sundry other items of bad taste.