We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
[I attended the Patriots press conference at "Sullivan Stadium On Steroids" in Foxborough Mass this week. I made a transcript of the proceedings, as best as I could remember them. They may be a little off here and there -- just a jot or tittle-- but this is the gist of it.]
Bill Belichick: I have some opening remarks if that's all right with you sportswriters. If it's not, I won't, because you are, of course, the sworn representatives of our fans by virtue of being in a print union and waiting for the last guy who did it to die of cirrhosis; so I defer to your judgement.
Sportswriters, in unision: Go ahead, you duplicitous pondscum.
BB: Thanks, and apologies to any pondscum or associated bacterium that are rightfully offended to be compared to me by you tribunes of accuracy.
I realize now, looking at you legions of dumpy middle-aged men, and women with big feet, that you're glaring at me because I'm dressed in a sweatshirt. You reasonably assume that I'm mocking you because it's nearly as casual as the white socks and mandals, front-butt cargo pants, and ill-fitting Hawaiian shirts with barbeque sauce dribbled down the front that you all wear all the time. It was not my intention to ruin your lives by wearing a simple hooded drawstring tunic, so from here on in, I'll be wrapped completely in duct tape, and Mr. Kraft has generously allowed me to set aside time from the Novenas I'm required to say for all the other teams to allow all you sportwriters to pull the tape off me at midfield, with a whipsaw motion, while you're all judging just how evil my post-game handshake is. I will now field questions.
Reporter: What steps have you taken to ensure that your team stops scoring points?
BB: Of course I apologize for scoring points against our opponents. It's unseemly. I tried putting both our second and third string quarterbacks into the games, but unfortunately the second string quarterback accidentally scored. I benched him for having the effrontery to score points during a football game, and luckily Matt Gutierrez tripped on one of the legs on the easy chair Redskins' Defensive Lineman Phillip Daniels had dragged out onto the field to sit in, and was unable to score.
Reporter: That doesn't answer my question, you rude jerk. What are you doing to avoid scoring points going forward? You jerk.
BB: I apologize for speaking in a monotone. I know how rude that is. I understand that unless I snarl at that one sportwriter that works for a local paper that can't afford to pick up the tab at a decent restaurant when interviewing me, to amuse the Globe writers, I'm never going to be ten percent of Bill Parcells. Bill was so good at not scoring points that he mesmerized the Bills into giving him a Super Bowl trophy, by not scoring either, just by missing a field goal...
Reporter: Just answer the question!
BB: Oh, yes. I must admit I am having trouble figuring out new ways to avoid scoring points. I did review all the newspaper columns from the last decade. It was chock-a-block full of advice on how not to score too many points. But it's too late to undo all my foolishness now and get back all the players the sportswriters helpfully demanded we keep, to keep from overscoring. You know, like Bledsoe and Branch and Andruzzi and Givens and Ty Law and Lawyer Milloy and Willie McGinest and Damien Woody and Corey Dillon and... oh listen to me ramble. Let's just say if you look at the contributions these players I've let go have had in helping other teams never to be placed in the unenviable position of having too many points, or even having enough money left under the salary cap to function, it's obvious I should have listened to the sportwriters, like Pete Carroll did. And every time I see our stupid Polish kid whatsisname kick the ball eight yards deep into the opponent's endzone instead of out on the ten yard line where that nice Adam Vinatieri kicks it, I could kick myself.
Reporter: What are you doing to curb Tom Brady's unhealthy fascination with dating girls I like to look up on the internet late at night while touching myself when my wife that weighs three bills is asleep? What a lowlife that guy is.
BB: I've spoken to Tom about it, and he's deeply ashamed to be the first quarterback to popular with any girls. I told him dating two girls in four years was pushing it, but he's young and headstrong. Anyway, he's spoken to his current girlfriend, and she's agreed to have one of her legs amputated just below the knee, to make insecure men feel better about themselves when Tom appears in the first three quarters of our games. I suggested he just dump her and grab Paul McCartney's old wife and save everybody a lot trouble, but he's sentimental about Gisele, I guess.
Reporter: Never mind that. How are you going to keep from scoring too many points against the Colts and ruining my Fantasy Football team point structure? My goddamn secretary is beating me because she took Brady because "He's dreamy." Do something!
BB: Well, I considered offering my pre-teen son as a hostage, to be waterboarded by Eric Mangini if we score too many points to suit Gregg Easterbrook. That didn't work out, since I've decided to bench Nick Kaczur and let my son play right tackle to acquiesce to the wishes of our many appropriately outraged detractors. This will allow even a loafing opponent like Phillip Daniels to get a crack at Tom Brady's knees just a tad after the whistle blows. I'm told that's what "classy" people think is fair. I wouldn't know, as "classy" people never attended Wesleyan University where I could get a look at them. They all seem to go to Florida State. Anyhoo, in lieu of the hostage thing, I've decided to pledge to commit ritual suicide at midfield if we win by more than 2-0. If we lose, all the better...
[There was a lot more, but I couldn't take it any more passive aggresive coachspeak and went out in the parking lot and slashed Belichick's tires. It seemed like the honorable thing to do. Jerk.]
I'm pondering the most inteligent way to say 'this sucks'. However, nothing but the words 'this sucks' comes to mind. I wonder if that is because this colume, well, sucks. I bet it has something to with the fact that the writer sucks.
I'm no fan of Belichick or the Pats, but I certainly had no problem with their scoring or efforts. The players on both teams are, after all, paid professionals. If this had been Ohio State flailing some vo-tech, that'd be a different story.
Like TJ says on SportsCenter (paraphrased)--if you don't like them scoring so much, stop 'em!