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Archive for September 10th, 2008

Coach Bill Belichick.

“Well, always feels good to get a win, especially against such a talented team. I thought we did some good things out there. There were obviously some things we could have done better. Now it’s time to focus on next Sunday and the Miami Dolphins.”

No reporter worth his or her salt was going to settle for Belichick’s stock postgame analysis. Not this time. Not after NFL golden boy Tom Brady showed up out of thin air, having spent the entire previous week on the injured reserve list. Time for answers.

“Coach, how was it that Tom Brady was able to play today?”

“We assessed the situation and those players who could play, played.”

“But Brady went down last week. We heard he had to have surgery. You said he would be gone all season. What changed?”

“”We don’t discuss injuries or details about those injuries. Next?”

The reporters stopped taking their turns now, getting angry over the uninformative answers coming from the podium.

“What’s going on?”
“Is he hurt or not?”
“Was it all staged?”
“Does he have a twin?”
“Coach, tell us truthfully. Did you clone Tom Brady?”
“Why did you do it?”

The badgering is so loud and persistant that Belichick can’t take it anymore. He snaps. And when Belichick snaps, you don’t want to be anywhere near that.

“Get your head out of your @$%! Wake up and grow some brains. It was fake! It was all fake!” Belichick loses it completely now, tearing at his hair, sweat pouring from his face. He screams at anyone and everyone in the room. “I told Brady to go down. I knew we could beat the stinkin’ Cheifs even with a putz like Cassel at the helm.”

Murmurs througout the crowd rippled. One brave journalist dares to ask another question as smoke literally comes out of Belichick’s ears. “But why?”

“Why? Why you ask? Why else? Do you have any idea the humiliation that #%$#$%# Mangini put me through last year? Do you have any idea what that was like? Why did I make the Jets believe they could beat us and then humiliate them in their own stadium? To teach them a lesson. Spygate. It all comes down to Spygate.”

Silence. Dead silence. No one can believe what Belichick is admitting to. Even some of the players have come out to hear the man implode on himself. Brady cannot be seen anywhere.

Scott Pioli has approached the podium. Belichick has become very still, his eyes glazed over. He mumbles “Not fair. Didn’t read memo. Mangini. Super Bowl. Must retaliate. Must…”

“It’s ok, Bill. Let’s go.”

Belichick is led out of the room. Suddenly, the room is thrown into a frenzy with every reporter and journalist with a cell phone or a blackberry shouting the story to their editors. The front page of every newspaper from here to San Diego would be covering this in the morning. It would be the talk of football for years. One of the greatest coaches in sports history goes down in fiery controversy all because of a bitter ex-employee.

In an ironic twist of fate, it was not Tom Brady’s injury that turned out to be false that would drag the Patriots down in the fall of 2008 but the need to make war instead of peace, to fuel rivalries instead of mending fences. And of course, this all can be blamed on Eric Mangini and the New York Jets for having started Spygate in the first place. In the years to come, the Patriots would come to be revamped with a crop of young players. Soon, the era of Brady and Belichick would just be a myth left to grandparents to pass along to their grandchildren.

As for the stars of our production, Brady stepped out of the spotlight after another year or so in the league. He would earn two more Super Bowl rings with the Patriots but it just wasn’t the same without Belichick around.

Ah, Belichick. After his unfortunate meltdown in front of the press, he was fired from the Patriots and placed in an asylum. Many years later, Eric Mangini would go to visit his former boss to apologize for tainting his reputation and being a general jerk in many ways. Belichick still refused to see him. Leaving the asylum, Mangini was hit by a bus.

The End.

Author’s note: Hey New England, at least that didn’t happen. 🙂

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“Gotcha!”

Favre can’t believe his eyes. There, standing not five feet away, is the man himself: #12 Tom Brady.

“But…but…I don’t understand. You were hurt, your knee was all bent and injured. How are you here?”

Brady doesn’t respond but simply flashes one of his trademark smiles. Every head in the stadium is turned toward him, every pair of eyes focused on the miraculously cured quarterback in the white and blue. Brady continues to stare at Favre, daring him to state the obvious.

“It was all a sham? You were never injured?” Favre won’t allow himself to believe what is happening. He saw the tape. He had it on a constant loop at home and in the Jets locker room. The tape of Brady’s injury on September 7th, 2008, became the best piece of motivation to ever come across a team billboard.

The luminescent Brady opened his mouth to speak. In the background, angels could be heard singing in harmonious chorus.

“Man, I’m just doing what Coach says. Sorry, but I have to go play some football,” Brady smiles. “Have, um, ‘fun’ out there.”

As he strides away, Brady can still be heard chuckling to himself. To be fair, it is the only sound that can be heard in the entire stadium. The crowd has turned to stone. Nervous, quivering stone. Just like their Jets.

4 quarters, 3 New England touchdowns and two Favre interceptions later, the surprise of Tom Brady’s return to the New England Patriots has not worn off. Now came the fun part – the postgame press conferences. Mike Lynch of Channel 5 was practically oozing with curiousity.

Randy Moss was first: “C’mon man. I just do what I do. I go out there and play the plays. I don’t know anything.” He walks away with a smirk and a wink.

#54: “It’s great to have your starters out there. It’s great to have your backups out there. We just go out and play the game, no matter who is throwing the ball. Thanks guys.”

The same response was being echoed around the locker room. That same old Patriots line.The press has practically attacked every player that passes by. Everyone finally makes their way over to the press room for the press conferences. The man himself, Tom Brady, is up first. He strides out, no limp and no cast, and takes the first question.

“Tom…what the hell man?”

“Yeah, it was a pretty good game. We did some good stuff out there. Lot of stuff we have to work on. Just trying to get better every week, fix our mistakes. It’s always good to win, though.”

Another reporter takes a shot.

“Tom, what’s with the knee? We thought you were out for the season. What’s going on?”

“Ah, you’ll have to ask Coach. I always want to play. If he says ‘play’ I play. Thanks guys.”

And just to add insult to serious – well, apparently not so serious – injury, Brady does a double heel kick off the podium.

Next up is Coach Bill Belichick. If anyone knows what the hell is going on, it will be him.

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The sun is shining. There is a slight breeze across the expansive green field. It is Sunday, God’s day, and football day in the Meadowlands. Old man Brett Favre is tossing the ball around with another teammate. Due to a freak signing of a 39 year old quarterback legend, all of the New York Jets players have lost their names to make room for the big name of Brett Favre. They’ll only hold a grudge if the team doesn’t make it to the Super Bowl. The stadium is already filled to capacity, most J-E-T-S Jets Jets Jets fans are eager to see their team finally hold domination over those rivals from the North. Namely, the New England Patriots. The joy these “people” felt the previous Sunday when MVP QB Tom Brady went down with an injured knee cannot be measured in mere words.

Footballer Favre throws a pass to a fellow teammate. It’s a stinger and the immediate crowd gives a cheer. Favre smiles at them. Things are good in New York. At first reluctant, then resigned, Favre is now feeling optimistic about this gang of green he joined to come out of retirement. At least he’s hogged a lot of the attention from the sports media. Isn’t that all he really wanted anyway?

A northernly gust of wind blows over the stadium unexpectedly. It’s a cold breeze, one that penetrates your skin and chills you to the bone. A hush has come over the crowd, so fast that Favre is left stupidly grinning still not having realized that the atmosphere in the Meadowlands has changed abruptly.

Slowly, a dark, human shaped shadow creeps over the ancient form of #4. Favre freezes – he’s seen this shadow before. Admittedly not often, but each time it didn’t turn out well for him. But those were back in the Green Bay days. And last Sunday had changed everything. There was hope now for the Jets, for his Jets. But this shadow, it was sending deep fear through his veins as if a vampire had just sucked out any hope or a winning season out of his elderly body.

“I have to turn around. I have to make sure this shadow doesn’t mean what I think it means,” says Favre to himself. A nearby fan adopts a worried face at seeing their new hero talking aloud to noone. Is a few weeks all it takes to go crazy with the Jets?

Gathering courage, Favre begins to slowly turn himself around to meet this cold, ominous shadow face to ghastly face. He finally makes it around and a sharp gasp of air comes out of his weary body. It can’t be…

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