Spurious thoughts and idle musings from the world of sports …

And 1 … Ouch.  Man, I can’t even begin to get my head wrapped around going 18-1 and not winning The Vince.  That is pain and we’re not talking French bread here.  But pain is what’s for dinner and the once-beaten Patriots have no one to blame but themselves.  Well, maybe the Super Bowl champeen New York Jints had a little something to do with it.  That nasty pass rush made the league’s best offensive line look silly and gave the Jints just enough time and space to seal it with two late sixes.  Thanks for playing, Pats, and Mercury Morris has some lovely parting gifts for you.
 
Hello ???  Hello, Mr Manning, this is Tony Romo, did I catch you at a bad time ???  No, certainly not, Tony, and please call me Archie.  Now what I can do for you ???  Well, Archie, this wasn’t my idea but Jerry Jones told me to call you and ask if you and Mrs Manning could adopt me as your son in time for next season.  He really wants to win the Super Bowl and seeing as your sons have won the last two … Well, I’m not sure about that, Tony … Say, can I put you on hold for a second, I have another call coming in.  Hello, who is this ???  Carson Palmer ???  I, uh, wait, hold on, there’s another call … Honey, could you tell Philip Rivers I’ll call him right back.

Okay, we get it … Janet Jackson’s naughty bit four years ago completely frazzled the grand poobahs at the NFL league office.  But can we please end the geezer tour that the halftime show has become in the wake of Miss J’s all-too-brief wardrobe malfunction ???  We had Paul McCartney in Jacksonville, the Stones two years ago, Prince last year and now Tom Petty and the Heart Bypass Surgeries this year.  What’s next, a Doors reunion ???  C’mon, baby, light my bifocals.

Golf season is back and so is some guy named Tiger.  I can’t be positive but I think he means business.  I don’t usually make bold predictions but Tiger looks like he just might win a few tournaments this year.
 
Supe ads were either bizarre or tame.  The one with the chick whose beating heart jumped out of her chest to tell her boss she was quitting her job didn’t exactly go well with the nachos and 7-layer dip I was trying to keep down.  The Dalmation training the Clydesdale was cute but sappy … And I’m still trying to figure out just how many different companies are out there selling magic water with some kind of fruit flavor in it.

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Spurious thoughts and idle musings from the world of sports …

I think we may have finally figured out Bill Belichick.  He’s not human.  I believe he’s an Arkillian prince sent here to protect the galaxy on Orion’s belt and coach a little football on the side.  In fact, I bet if you tugged on Belichick’s ear lobe, his face would lift off and there’d be a little 3″ tall E.T. in there working the controls.  And I also think the coach is in cahoots with the Men In Black to keep his Patriots under control.  Anybody gets out of line and J and K are there to flashy-thing them right back into submission.  All we need now for proof is a couple of juicy National Enquirer articles like, say for example, if the star quarterback was dating a Brazilian supermodel.
 
You know, this is one time when I’m actually glad Vince Lombardi isn’t around to see what has happened to his game.  Seattle kicker Josh Brown will be wearing heated warm-up pants on the sidelines in Green Bay this weekend.  That’s right, no matter how cold it gets at Lambeau, batteries in Brown’s pants will keep his calves, thighs and hamstrings a toasty 75 degrees.  No truth to the rumor that Brown also brought his woobie to sleep with him in his hotel room or that he’ll have Seahawks staff keep a thermos of decaf, half-soy, no whip, double-shot caramel cappuccino under the bench in case he feels chilly.  And I’m really glad Seattle isn’t playing in Philadelphia this weekend cause Iggles fans would make sure poor Josh has all the extra batteries he needed and then some.
 
If you’re a Sports Illustrated subscriber, then you’re familiar with the magazine’s “Faces In The Crowd” section.  Each issue features half a dozen young and unknown athletes.  They’re mostly high schoolers who’ve set some new and obscure record like the longest javelin toss in Idaho girls track history or most goals in one soccer game by a left-footed sophomore.  But here’s the thing … There are never any ugly faces in “Faces In The Crowd”.  Never.  Every girl is button cute and every guy is the homecoming king.  I have no idea what this means but if you’re a young jock planning on hitting 53 home runs with one hand or a tennis player and you haven’t lost since you were 2, you better not have a crooked nose, buck teeth or a chin full of zits cause that ain’t the kind of face in the crowd SI is looking for.

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