- Joined
- Oct 16, 2007
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So let me apologize in advance for subjecting you to this unfortunate screed. Much of this has likely been said elsewhere (probably not quite this way, but I suppose that is another matter). I know I’m venting my spleen here, but this may well be a matter of personal survival because if my head doesn’t explode, I may well go Completely and Utterly Out of My Mind.
Jesus God, what a freak show. Nobody in their wildest dreams could make stuff like this up.
If you happen to work at the location of the NFL offices, 345 Park Avenue in New York, one can only hope it hasn’t escaped your attention that the building is burning down. It may be hard to hear over the din of the nonstop calliope music and there is, of course, the minor matter of the workmen in the lobby who are changing the office signage from National Football League to National Fustercluck League. But there’s no mistaking that something is seriously awry in the inner workings of the World’s Most Successful and Profitable Sports League.
Watching Roger Goodell trying to administer the affairs of this $9 billion enterprise is like watching an armadillo try to hump out a Mozart concerto on a cello. You know it’s an obscene affront to human dignity but you don’t know whether to laugh or cry about it.
Those who say Herr Goodell is an incompetent moron have it all wrong – Roger is an astoundingly competent moron. Indeed, a world class moron. In fact, if you took 10 or 20 of the smartest, most talented people in the world and asked to them to devise a plan to royally **** up the NFL, they couldn’t possibly come up with anything remotely as devastating as what Roger Goodell does by lunchtime on your average Tuesday just by showing up. If sheer dumb****ery were an Olympic event (cue national anthem here), Roger would be on national TV swathed in the American flag every four years for the foreseeable future.
Roger’s hired gun - bon vivant/man-about-town Ted Wells (attorney-at-law and independent investigator and objective judge and impartial one-man jury miraculously not influenced by numerous other aforementioned Ted Wells multiple personalities skulking around North America at $800 per hour) - somehow managed to grossly outspend an unlimited budget while taking the Deflated Football matter over not one but several cliffs. Along the way, Wells engaged expert witness opinion manufacturing firm Exponent (company motto: Will Prevaricate for Mega $$$) to bastardize the laws of physics. They delivered handsomely, using imprecise measurements to go from unwarranted assumptions to foregone conclusions. This is the lynchpin of Wells’ case, enabling him to conclude that text messages exchanged between ball-boys shortly after Ground Hog Day were incontrovertible evidence of a dastardly plot by a Hall of Fame caliber player with an impeccable reputation to surreptitiously let a small amount of air out of footballs sometime the following January. Case closed.
Roger’s employment of Troy Vincent as Executioner may well be the single most absurd development in the increasingly bizarre episode. First, it strains the credulity of anyone who doesn’t still use crayons for written communication that Vincent dreamed up The Preposterous Off-with-the-Bastards’-Heads Penalties levied against Brady and the Patriots without the imperial oversight of Blockheadus Maximus (it’s really not all that hard to imagine Goodell wiggling his fingers to make Vincent’s lips move, as unsavory as that might be). Incredible as it may seem, this Kabuki Theater is a nakedly transparent ploy to preserve Goodell’s (ahem) right to serve as the ARBITRATOR who will adjudicate the appeal of Tom Brady’s suspension. But surely, even Rocket Roger could not be that dumb, to take on Brady, Robert Kraft, high powered attorney/NFL nemesis Jeffrey Kessler and the NFLPA in a public high stakes stare down, likely to be covered live on the Worldwide Sewer of Sports Journalism, ESPN. I mean nobody (NOBODY!!!) could possibly be THAT ****ING STUPID!!!! Could they?
But this is Roger Goodell - dimwit. Walking the plank. Jumping overboard while hugging an anchor. I know, I know. He’s a ridiculously overpaid dunce and a constant source of misery to football fans all over the world. But you have to feel just a tiny bit sorry for him. Don’t you?
No? Okay, well **** him then. Roger, over and out.
Jesus God, what a freak show. Nobody in their wildest dreams could make stuff like this up.
If you happen to work at the location of the NFL offices, 345 Park Avenue in New York, one can only hope it hasn’t escaped your attention that the building is burning down. It may be hard to hear over the din of the nonstop calliope music and there is, of course, the minor matter of the workmen in the lobby who are changing the office signage from National Football League to National Fustercluck League. But there’s no mistaking that something is seriously awry in the inner workings of the World’s Most Successful and Profitable Sports League.
Watching Roger Goodell trying to administer the affairs of this $9 billion enterprise is like watching an armadillo try to hump out a Mozart concerto on a cello. You know it’s an obscene affront to human dignity but you don’t know whether to laugh or cry about it.
Those who say Herr Goodell is an incompetent moron have it all wrong – Roger is an astoundingly competent moron. Indeed, a world class moron. In fact, if you took 10 or 20 of the smartest, most talented people in the world and asked to them to devise a plan to royally **** up the NFL, they couldn’t possibly come up with anything remotely as devastating as what Roger Goodell does by lunchtime on your average Tuesday just by showing up. If sheer dumb****ery were an Olympic event (cue national anthem here), Roger would be on national TV swathed in the American flag every four years for the foreseeable future.
Roger’s hired gun - bon vivant/man-about-town Ted Wells (attorney-at-law and independent investigator and objective judge and impartial one-man jury miraculously not influenced by numerous other aforementioned Ted Wells multiple personalities skulking around North America at $800 per hour) - somehow managed to grossly outspend an unlimited budget while taking the Deflated Football matter over not one but several cliffs. Along the way, Wells engaged expert witness opinion manufacturing firm Exponent (company motto: Will Prevaricate for Mega $$$) to bastardize the laws of physics. They delivered handsomely, using imprecise measurements to go from unwarranted assumptions to foregone conclusions. This is the lynchpin of Wells’ case, enabling him to conclude that text messages exchanged between ball-boys shortly after Ground Hog Day were incontrovertible evidence of a dastardly plot by a Hall of Fame caliber player with an impeccable reputation to surreptitiously let a small amount of air out of footballs sometime the following January. Case closed.
Roger’s employment of Troy Vincent as Executioner may well be the single most absurd development in the increasingly bizarre episode. First, it strains the credulity of anyone who doesn’t still use crayons for written communication that Vincent dreamed up The Preposterous Off-with-the-Bastards’-Heads Penalties levied against Brady and the Patriots without the imperial oversight of Blockheadus Maximus (it’s really not all that hard to imagine Goodell wiggling his fingers to make Vincent’s lips move, as unsavory as that might be). Incredible as it may seem, this Kabuki Theater is a nakedly transparent ploy to preserve Goodell’s (ahem) right to serve as the ARBITRATOR who will adjudicate the appeal of Tom Brady’s suspension. But surely, even Rocket Roger could not be that dumb, to take on Brady, Robert Kraft, high powered attorney/NFL nemesis Jeffrey Kessler and the NFLPA in a public high stakes stare down, likely to be covered live on the Worldwide Sewer of Sports Journalism, ESPN. I mean nobody (NOBODY!!!) could possibly be THAT ****ING STUPID!!!! Could they?
But this is Roger Goodell - dimwit. Walking the plank. Jumping overboard while hugging an anchor. I know, I know. He’s a ridiculously overpaid dunce and a constant source of misery to football fans all over the world. But you have to feel just a tiny bit sorry for him. Don’t you?
No? Okay, well **** him then. Roger, over and out.
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