by Scott Benson
What a couple of days, huh? Just goes to show you that you can watch a sport for 40 years and still not experience everything.
I’ve been trying to think if there’s any Pats precedent to this, the sight of the greatest player in the history of the franchise suddenly taken from the team and its fans in a blink of the CBS eye. Of course there isn’t.
Now that the shock and awe has worn off, I’m actually feeling a sence of buoyancy this afternoon. F**k you, Kubler-Ross! I’m skipping right through ‘Acceptance’ and making my own SIXTH Stage of Grief: Jacked and Pumped!
Seriously, if the forelorn Pats can go to the Meadowlands next Sunday and beat Brett Favre and the Jets, it might be the greatest victory in franchise history. Okay, so maybe not, but you have to admit – it would be the balls.
No wonder the Jets were so anxious to beat the Pats to the punch on the Brady announcement – they figured they just passed ‘GO’ and collected $200. Oh, yeah? You’ll be sucking on Baltic next weekend, you chodes! I don’t think my horse is such a bad bet, by the way. In part because that rube playing quarterback for you is just the kind of thickheaded dolt who would mail it in on prep time this week, figuring he’s already got it made. I don’t think anybody ever got Erv (or anybody else) on record as saying Ol’ Brett was the smartest player he ever coached. If he came out in a straw hat with a couple of teeth missing next weekend, I would hardly see anything out of the ordinary. I fully expect that pinhead to keep the game close all by himself.
I don’t think I looked forward to the last Super Bowl (note to Jets fans; see how I had to qualify which Super Bowl I was talking about? You’ll never have to worry about that.) as much as I’m looking forward to this game next week. Now that the media has annointed the Jets as the AFC East’s Goliath in the wake of Brady’s season-ending injury, what better way to spend your Sunday than wishing for the formerly-starry Pats to be David again?