Brady’s Wind-Mill Tipping Days are Here!

DATELINE: A Weather Balloon, not a Saucer! 

  Your Patriots an Impossible Dream?

Tom Brady must escape from Foxboro now more than ever. He has an impossible dream: to be exonerated from the stinky swamp that his owner and head coach have tarred on his name.

Those four feathers are now making him run out of town on a rail but much worse than being pals to an impeached president.

He may never be able to restore his good name from ties to the Watergate slime of all NFL and pro sports: he cannot strip off the stench of being on the Patriots, once again going down in history books as the most stupid team of all-time.

This is worse than the sequelitis of space war in the Rise of Skywalker, or Rambo’s Last Blood,or Arnold’s tiresome Termination D. Cornpone.

Brady is now unable to wash off the taint, the smell, the curse of Belichick Island. The gold may be buried under the swamp and the body there may belong to Montezuma—or to TB12.

The return of Spygate, the damnation of Deflategate, and the horrors of association are now his Mark of Cain.

Tom Brady is now the Howard Carter of Tut discovery. No mosquito bite needed for sepsis to set in.

Yes, with an owner whose sexual peccadilloes are in the courtroom of limbo, and with a head coach who seems unable to extricate himself from the reputation of cheating his way to over 300 NFL victories, Tom Brady is guilty by association. It is a logical fallacy, perhaps even a tad unfair to Tom’s sense of terrific.

It is now Brady’s legacy.

He needs to extricate himself, if possible, to save what’s left of his tattered reputation as a GOAT, rather than to be the all-time goat of sports cheats.

It may be too late and too little time. Has Tom Brady crashed in Roswell or Foxboro?

Brady can go to Miami or Las Vegas and play with another team for the next five years for millions of dollars. He may even win a championship, but he will be forever linked with the Missing Link of modern sports:  he will search for honor in a league where there is no place for old men.

Tom Brady’s Eden has been filled with serpents for twenty years. He is now snake-bit.

 

Concussion-gate Rivals Trump-gate

DATELINE: Move Over, Watergate and Deflategate

 duke & duchess of Foxboro

Not tonight, dear. He has a headache.

Like his friend Donald Trump, Tom Brady has a big headache.

No, it isn’t James Comey. It’s Tom’s wife, Giselle Bundchen. The superstar model gave an interview in which she announced Tom had a concussion this past season on the road to the Super Bowl.

In fact, she said he had many concussions over the years. Uh-oh.

This was news to the NFL and Roger Goodell as well as the Players Union. There are rules about medical reports and who can play if he is concussed.

Goodell never ducks an issue like concussions, and now Giselle has given him another shot at Tom’s head.

You know there is trouble when the doctor who was played by Will Smith and blew the whistle on concussions in the NFL has called Giselle heroic.

Tom may have another word for her.  We may now see who wears the pants on the runway at Tom’s house.

Trump could fire Comey, but Tom may be up the creek with Giselle and her half-billion-dollar bank account. The Patriots are staying mum on Tom’s children’s mum, but we know that Jose Baez will be the first to offer his services if Concussion-gate gets messy.

We think Julian Edelman may have to recuse himself, and we aren’t sure if Bill Belichick will be subpoenaed to appear before Congress.

The Patriots may need to ask for a second opinion before the man with the Fountain of Youth admits he has feet of clay.

 

Richard Nixon & Tom Brady: Technophobes

 DATELINE: 18 and a Half Minutes Missing

Tom Brady in Freefall Featured image

Technology did in Richard Nixon, and technology has done in Thomas Brady.

With the word that his suspension is upheld, the NFL accused Tom of destroying evidence. It seems he ordered his cell phone to be sledgehammered into oblivion when Ted Wells wanted to see and to hear it.

As we recall, Richard Nixon destroyed 18 and a half minutes of highly incriminating audio tape, rather than turn it over to investigators, causing the horror of Watergate.

If you are a student of history, you may want to tell us that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. And, Tom has turned his phone conversations into the stuff of legend. Like Nixon’s comments, Tom’s comments will be the stuff of speculation for generations to come. Deflate-gate is a sports metaphor version of Nixon’s fall.

Brady is likely to go to federal court and play it to the hilt. Those who want to think the worst of him already do—and their opinion will never be swayed.

Unlike every thug and vicious criminal to have Goodell’s mercy, Tom Brady is the clean cut, white collar fellow who must face sworn testimony in court. Goodell wants to see his greatest QB facing perjury and obstruction of justice charges.

We cannot imagine a sport, short of Ancient Rome, that crowds called for the literal blood of its stars. There was no free ride. Those downturned thumbs meant you were dead meat

Tom ought to ride off into the sunset now, leaving puzzlement in his wake, refusing to participate in this turn of the screw.

Nixon had his Frost, and Brady may need to designate nemesis somewhere down the road. As for now, resignation looks like the best highway out of town.

Move Over, Richard Nixon! It’s Roger Goodell Time!

 DATELINE: Ghost of Nixon

Featured image

Suppose Roger Goodell held a press conference after the owners’ meeting.

How much would you bet that he would come across as the New Nixon?

We haven’t seen such nervous worry since the President announced there would be no whitewash at the White House.

Goodell was sweating all over his face, not just his upper lip. After a litany of alleged good news, and nothing close to Tom Brady, the first question was about Deflategate.

Goodell squirmed. There was no connection between his many conversations with Robert Kraft over the past few weeks and the Brady hearing. What?? They’ve talked many times? Wow, someone has not told us the truth.

Goodell also said he has been so busy with these two days of meetings that he hasn’t had a chance to think about recusing himself from being Tom Brady’s jury and executioner.

He also said he would have an announcement about an independent arbiter tomorrow—and then said how he looked forward to hearing what Tom Brady had to say.

Well, we presume we can skip the next press conference because we already know what he’ll say.

We await the press conference when Goodell has the entire Wells report behind him in multi-volumes and bound in leather. That’s how Nixon presented transcripts of the recordings in his Oval Office.

Perhaps the multi-million dollar Wells report will come in thumb drive, gilded in gold, hanging in effigy behind Goodell.

Nixon lives through the NFL Commissioner. May he have a happier ending than Mr. Nixon.

Where’s David Frost when you need him?

A Whitewash at the NFL

DATELINE: Next Comes an Impeachable Source

 

Rondo&CoachRelaxing

As a fan of Bill Belichick and Tom Brady, we are mortified.

Watergate parallels grow more apt with each passing day.

Deflate-gate is a sports version of Watergate and an update of Spygate.

As in the Nixonian original, it was not the two-bit crime that started it which brought down a President of the United States, it was the coverup and hubris that followed.

We half expected Bill Belichick to come out at his press conference and mimic Lee Harvey Oswald by crying out, “I’m a patsy,” which would be both figurative and literal in its truth. He is a Pat Patriot Patsy.

Those who never learn from history are doomed to repeat it as Spygate morphs into Deflategate. All this is terribly ironic as there is no greater student of football history than Bill Belichick whose personal library of football books would be enough to start the Widener Library for Sports.

In a press conference that reminded us of the bitter days of the white wash at the White House, Bill Belichick did everything but say, “I am not a crook.” In his case, it would be, “I am not a cheat.”

We remain bemused by a public not fazed by the discovery that football stars were child abusers or wife beaters this season. We are disdainful of a public that is up in arms over an air pocket of rule inflation has set the Super Bowl on its ear.

What did they know and when did they know it? That was the catchpharase of the 1970s. Next, we expect to learn that there is an office taping system in Belichick’s office—but don’t hold your breath, the pivotal 18 minutes of air being let out of a dozen footballs is likely erased.

Tom Brady always dreamed of a political career at the end of football, but we never suspected that he would bring back the memories of Watergate.