NFL – Can I Be Frank & Crew?

Not-So-Super Bowl Memory: Chest Pain

Well, well, well…. here we are again!

The New England Patriots are back in the Super Bowl again, and it feels so good! With just a few short years since the Brady/Belichick Dynasty, we have a new regime in Foxboro. Welcome Coach Vrabel and Drake Maye – the new Pats Dynasty officially will commence on Sunday! Good luck, boys!

But I am not looking to discuss this future phenomenon of a football organization. I am not looking to review the 20 years of glory led by Tom “I have No Skin in the Game” Brady and Bill “Cradle Robbing” Belichick. Nope, I am here today to review my least favorite Patriots Super Bowl; the 1996/7 Team that faced the Green Bay Packers in Super Bowl XXXI (that’s 31for you kids that will never learn or need Roman Numerals).

January 26, 1997, New Orleans, Louisiana

This Patriots team was commanded of legendary Bill Parcells and our Golden Boy Quarterback of the 1990s, Drew Bledsoe. The Pats we clear underdogs and it showed from the get-go. Brett Favre and Company were heavy favorites, but we were not going to let that stand in the way of us.

But the game was not the storyline of the day…

You see, I was a senior in college during that Super Bowl run. I was living in a triple-decker tenement in Worcester with seven (4 Patriots fans, a Phillie degenerate, 2 Long Island nerds, and a human bottle of maple syrup from Vermont) my best college bros. It was a wonderful time to be alive! Each and every Sunday of that season we hunkered down in that squirrel-infested shithole and watched every play of every game, into the playoffs and magically into the SBXXI!

As the big game approached, we all agreed we needed to go big time with our game day party plan. Go big or go home! We had every type of cuisine on speed dial (because clearly none of us could cook anything! I’m not sure we have an oven in the dwelling?). As the sun rose that glorious morning, we were “pumped and jacked”, to quote former Patriots Head Coach/Hype-Man, Pete Carroll.

And this is where the story begins…

As we rolled through the morning, the excitement was palpable! We were gonna have an epic watch party and do this thing right, despite the desperate realization we could not win this game. Alas, it did not deter our spirits.

At approximately 1000 Hours Woosta Time, one of the Long Islanders – who was an Art Student – proposed what he thought was a great idea…

“Hey, why don’t you tough guy Patriots Fans paint your chests like you were at the game?!”

“F%$& you, you losah!” was our collective knee jerk reaction.

Wildly inappropriate verbal barbs (that are no longer acceptable in this sensitive, crybaby culture we live in) ensued. Until finally we broke under the foolish peer pressure. The next thing you know, four 21-year-old men allowed a fledging doodler to apply (what I later learned was a toxic brand) paint to our bare chests. Real men of genius! Approximately one hour later, we each brandished the New England Patriots logo across our pasty white torsos. We were all in and, in a very childish way, proud of this “badge of honor”.

It was now 12:00PM and we needed to get some stuff done. And by “stuff” I meant buy a keg for the game. And so, myself and my City of Brotherly love buddy headed out (after putting on a shirt – I wasn’t that much of an idiot.

This mission took not even an hour, and we returned with the magnificent vat of cold brew. LFG! By that time, my fellow chest branders had also put on some cover ups. After all the game was still 5+ hours away.

The revelry began. We tapped the keg and we were off to the races! The beers were flowing like wine (Dumb and Dumber tribute there). And as the clock to kickoff continued to wind down, I felt a massive sense of discomfort. Around 3PM, this once-a-good-idea paint experiment was started to trouble my cheap Irish skin. On the down low, I whispered to my co-chest cohort,

“Hey, is this paint bothering you guys?

Each very quickly replied with a definitive “No”.

“Oh, OK. It’s a little itchy, but I’ll muscle through.”

I could not bear the thought of the non-New Englanders making fun of me.

Time marched on. The casual itchiness soon turned to downright discomfort. But I would not break. I ducked into the bathroom to take a peek. Oh man…. this doesn’t look good. Red and irritated, I was not going to bend.

At last kickoff was here. It was time for us to show off Pats Patriotism.

As I tore off my covering, my skin looked like I was in an outpatient program from the Shriner’s burn center. It was not pretty. As I looked to my compadres, the laughter began. What I quickly realized was that they were ALL irritated by the poison paint. They had removed during the time I was generously pick up our frothy libations! I suffered for five and a half hours alone. Like a sucker.

I raced to the shower and scraped that lacquer from my person as fast as you can say jack rabbit. But the damage was done. Disaster. It took days of creams, ointments, lotions and potions to get back to normal. Thanks a lot, friends.

Oh, and to make it all worse, Green Bay Packers 35, Patriots 21.

Needless to say, there will be no chest paint come this Sunday…. just my face.

GO PATS!!!

Burkie, Can I Be Frank, Dan Tobin, Frank McCabe, Pistoffirishman, Sports

Pats-Colts: The Only Way We Will Be Satisfied is if…

Welp, “the game” is finally here. Sunday night, Tom ‘FUC’king (Fuck You Colts) Brady and the Patriots travel to Indianapolis to exact revenge against the weasels that were the root cause of the greatest, most shameful sham in sports history, “DeflateGate”.

Unless you live is Crazistan, you know exactly what I am referring to. Colts accuse Brady of deflating footballs to illegal air pressure level resulting in his enhanced performance during the AFC Championship game last January. Total and utter horseshit (or Colt-shit, I suppose). That’s all I can say because it causes a visceral reaction in me due to its stupidity and my blood pressure is already a health concern.

Anyway, we all know the story. But now, the time has come. After all the noise from the media, NFL Owners, soon-to-be-unemployed Commissioner Roger Goodell, and Indianapolis sports hack writer, Gregg Doyel, its simply time to play football. Early predictions are not pretty for Indy. Colts poster boy Andrew Luck is not healthy and, even though he plans to start the game at QB, he is not 100% which only enhances the case for the Patriots winning….and winning HUGE.

Enough of my shitty sports babble. I started to ponder what could possibly meet Patriots’ fans expectations? I don’t think a Pats runaway victory will satisfy us. Not at all. I think Patriot Nation is looking for something biblical. Something epic. Something impossible to happen. And why not? Let’s be candid, TFB and the boys are going to destroy this substandard team, but let’s use our imagination for a second.

What could happen Sunday night that would truly make us believe that justice has been served?

I polled ‘The Crew’ and here is our compilation….

(DISCLAIMER: We do not actually wish any bodily harm on anyone. Colts players, staff ownership or otherwise. This is supposed to be funny. I am explaining this in case any of you slow-witted Shit kicking mid-westerners happen to read this column)

Andrew Luck spontaneously combusts and somehow Peyton Manning comes in as the backup (because of what Hasselback did – see below). First play, his arm falls off as he throws interception to Tom Brady, who is now amazingly playing defense because he is bored. Brady then walks by the now one-armed Manning and sings over his body, ‘Chicken Parm, you taste so good!”

Julian Edelman plays quarterback for the entire 4th quarter because Pats are up by 63.

Upon a landslide win, the collective force of all the Colts disappointment seeping out of the roof of Lucas Oil Satdium causes their fleet of AFC Runner Up banners to break from the rafters, falling to field and suffocates Irsay, Grigson and Pagano….because no one could hear their cries for help due to the fake crowd noise.

Somehow Bill Belicheck convinces Adam Vinitieri to come back to New England during the game and he kicks a meaningless last minute field goal to seal a Patriots victory…86-6. ITS GOOD!!!

Colts Owner Jim Irsay and Patriots Owner Bob Kraft have a full on WWE wrestling match in a cage above the field during halftime. Kraft, wearing his usual white-collar-blue shirt duds, wins with a Stone Cold (Steve Austin) Stunner, pounds 2 Budweisers that Gronk has thrown him and throw cans on Irsay’s unconscious body.

Chuck Pagano cries. Again.

(Boston native) Colts’ Backup QB Matt Hasselback shows up dressed in Patriots uniform. Takes a dump on the 50 yard line.

Upon scoring yet another goal line quarterback sneak touchdown, Brady heads for the goal post, pulls out a prescription pill bottle, whacks back the whole bottle and points up to Owner’s box. (by the way, the bottle was simply filled with Awesomeness.)

Following victory, Kraft BUYS the Colts and immediately moves the team back to Baltimore….Sunday night….via train.

During Post-Game Press Conference, the usually mute Bill Belicheck does a full on gangsta rap whereby be announces he had sex with Colts fat shit GM Ryan Grigson’s wife. It would rhyme of course.

OK, maybe we have high hopes, but hey, we will need something to think about once we are up 50 at the half.

To paraphrase Alec Baldwin in Glengarry Glenross, “I’d wish you Luck, Baltimore, but you wouldn’t’ know what to do with it.”

Indianapolis Colts: “What’s your name?”

New England Patriots: “Fuck you. THAT’S my name.”

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Bring on the Hate: 6 Reasons Why College Football is Better than the NFL

With the beloved football season in full swing, I took a moment to compare the virtues of college football versus the National Football League (aka, the ‘NFL’, in case you are having a terribly brain-farty day). After further review, I have determined that….I can already feel the anger about to come my way….the COLLEGE game is better.

Now, hold on just a second before you get your Cleveland Browns panties twisted into a Cleveland Brown Steamer and let me explain the exception to this hypothesis. Nothing – not a thing – is better than watching your hometown (lifelong) NFL team…especially when your team has dominated this millennium as our beloved Patriots have done. Tom Brady, Bill Belicheck and Bob Kraft (the Holy Trinity of pro football excellence) have given me more enjoyment and memories in the past 15 years than ~~the birth, first word, first step, first day of school of my three childr.~~..well, lets just say more enjoyment than most things in my life.

Put that fact aside and I’ll give you the rundown of why college is a greater fan football experience than the ‘average’ NFL one…

School Pride/Alumni/History

Unlike the NFL fan, college programs have fans with a true connection tot he team. They are students, alumni, that follow their school and their team no matter where they live. Forever. Sally the Smoking-hot sophomore may actually know, have a class with (or maybe even date/bang?) the starting stud QB from Alabama. But I am quite certain that Tanya the tubby Taunton Town Clerk has never shared a moment with Rob Gronkowski (despite his erotic novel she likely ‘Gronks off’ to in the off-season). That’s a genuine connection versus one that is fabricated based solely on geography.

Which brings me to #2 right out of the gate…

2. College Co-Eds vs Wish You Had No-Heads

Every major college stadium is loaded with more hot broads than they are with substandard SAT scores. The SEC, Big Ten, PAC Ten, ACC….every conference is stuffed with more honies than Winnie the Pooh’s 401k. Packs of Playboy-esque girls, scantily clad and making Mom and Dad proud during every nationally televised week of action…

…like this

this…

and this…

The average NFL stadium is the opposite, by and large, for a number of reasons. Most of the big NFL markets – New England, Green Bay, Chicago, Buffalo, Philadelphia – also happen to be in cold weather climates, so come Halloween, it gets scary in those stands full of Tanyas.

How about the fact that age average is going to be higher? That’s a fact.

How about the cost of attending a game is far more? $30 at a college game gets you a ticket, a 12 pack of Busch Light and a hot dog. $30 at the NFL gets one of your asscheeks through the turnstile. Maybe.

3. Saturday vs Sunday

Yes, the football week has expanded, especially over recent years, but by and large college teams play on Saturdays and the Pros play on Sundays. Anyone who votes Sunday > Saturday is either a liar, doesn’t work Mondays or is a liar. This is simple chapter and verse logic.

4. ESPN College Vs ESPN NFL

(disclaimer, I have come to hate ESPN as a whole but…)

When you rollover on a Sunday morning feeling guilty about missing mass, hungover, wishing you didn’t have to even think about Monday and just have the general disposition of prison bathroom janitor, you have to listen to this bloated, repetitive, needs-new-material, needs-to-retire bastard’s mug in your face

or. kickoff the Saturday morning on College Gameday with this magnificent son of a bitch!

5. And Just a few more reasons to pile on why College Football is Better than the NFL…

More teams.

More games.

More upsets.

More Cinderella stories.

Better tailgates.

Better/Older Rivalries,

Pageantry,

Mascots,

Bands, and

TRADITIONS.

Oh yeah, and its FREAKING COLLEGE, dude!

Lastly…

6. I’m Sorry Tom Brady

You’re still the G.O.A.T. , brother!

Dan Tobin

What you should realistically expect to hear from Roger Goodell….

pic from mediacriminaljustice.blogspot.com

I’m not posting the video as it’s depressingly savage…if not the punch, the image of Ray waiting for the doors to open to drag his unconscious fiancé off the elevator. If you’re curious, it can be found everywhere but here.

At this point, you’ve got to be wondering, “How omnipotent is the NFL shield? ” Like society’s benchmark for deplorable doesn’t seem to apply at all, and in that regard, it doesn’t seem that the league itself cares to align itself with that standard in any way shape or form. While the general public expects a reasonably measured response from Rog and crew, I expect more of the usual bull shit coming from New York:

“Did anyone read that story about the NBA booting yet another racist owner from their ranks? You’d think it was 1954, not 2014. Shameful.” –Roger Goodell

“It’s frustrating to me as a commissioner when these occurrences happen because it takes away from all the good that we’re doing as a league. Like it’s been almost a full calendar year since one of our players has been indicted for murder…which ya know…on paper, is worse than domestic violence.” –Roger Goodell

“Yes it is true that we received a copy of this tape last week, but we delayed comment and action until our experts could determine beyond a reasonable doubt that this wasn’t part of “the Fappening.” –Roger Goodell

“As part of our expanded emphasis on long term health and to demonstrate our commitment to the absolute abolishment of major head trauma from the NFL…player’s wives, girlfriends, and sidepieces will receive a female adaptive version of Wes Welker’s helmet to be worn at all times. Removal of the helmet will result in a league imposed fine for 1^st time offenders, and an automatic season suspension and mandatory counseling for repeat offenders. And for our female fans, a pink replica will be available in all official team stores and ShopNFL.com for the duration of Break Cancer Awareness Month.” –Roger Goodell

“With regard to our young fans’ exposure to this event through the prism of Madden Football, our partners at EA Sports have agreed to also take action per our request. While Ray Rice cannot be physically removed from the game, Ray Rice’s player rating will be adjusted retroactively. Gamers deploying Ray Rice will see a marginal increase in Strength Rating (STR-92) and Elusiveness (ELV-87…not to be confused with “elevator.”), and a significant decrease in Awareness (AWR-72), and Personality Rating (PER-70).” –Roger Goodell

“While it’s hard to find any ray of light…sorry, no pun intended…in such a dark situation, it should be noted that the cutting of Ray Rice now makes this by rule, a technical knock-out (TKO), and a win for Jannay Palmer. That’s at least good for bragging rights. Speaking of bragging rights, have you and your friends registered to play NFL Fantasy Football on NFL.com?” –Roger Goodell

“Our players are the most finely tuned athletes in the world, programmed to endure and distribute physical punishment on a 57.6 thousand square foot battlefield. I’m not really sure why the make elevators so small? We’re in early discussions with engineers over at OTIS to consider NFL friendly adaptations to their future models.” –Roger Goodell

Austin Fontanella, Sports

Why I want Johnny Manziel To Fail

If the Fantasy Football name contests don’t give it away a quick look at the calendar will; football season is right around the corner. The 2014 NFL draft is now more than 3 months behind us, but the league’s 22^nd pick is still making headlines (and not exactly for the right reasons).

I’m talking of course about Johnny Manziel or what is Alex, “The one person who’s living out most men’s fantasies”. The 21 year old not only partied his way through college, but did so to the tune of a 2012 Heisman Trophy and a first round pick in the NFL draft. The guy is so popular that you could probably get lucky with the right woman if you just mentioned he picked on you in high school.

Now that we agree I would gladly switch places with him let’s dive into the meat of this; why I want Johnny Manziel to fail (at least to start). When Johnny Football (which is already trademarked by the way) came out and talked about his battle with the playbook it became pretty clear this first round pick wasn’t exactly a stickler for the classroom.

Quick question; how is that an acceptable answer? You just penned an eight million dollar contract, and walked away with an extra four million dollars for correctly spelling your name! When your job is to be a passible NFL quarterback how do you not pick up the playbook on a daily basis? Tack on the fact Cleveland hasn’t been to the Super Bowl since 1965 and it’s almost a crime!

Everything we have seen thus far indicates Manziel expects to go through his NFL career just like his college one; skating by on his sheer athletic talent. In the world of instant information it wouldn’t take the 21 year old very long to realize that is a dangerous gamble. Just ask Ryan Leaf: one moment you’re an NFL quarterback, and the next you’re reduced to stealing prescription drugs from a high school prep student.

Young Johnny Manziel hasn’t known failure in his entire life, and that’s a problem. If you haven’t been knocked down a few times what motivation do you have to get better? If you want evidence of this simply look at your most recent Super Bowl winner. Russell Wilson was an undersized third round pick who people thought would at best occupy a backup spot.

It’s now Maziel’s turn to break out of that stranglehold. Whether the Texas A&M alumni realizes it or not, the Cleveland Browns just did him a huge favor by making him their backup. Johnny Football is finally experiencing failure for the first time, and what he does next will likely determine his NFL career. Now he can either go take his ball and go home (to what is likely a gorgeous woman so he has that going for him) or ditch his stupid touchdown dance and take his job seriously.

If you’re a Cleveland fan you hope this is the first step to a path of maturity. But then you remember God hates Cleveland, and that trend setting touchdown dances aren’t easy to come up with on the fly.

MANZIEL-MONEY — With moves like that how could Michael Jackson not be proud!