Bob George's Archive:

He’s not here, and then again, he is.

My God. The Chowds are back on Bourbon Street.

John Updike couldn’t write this any better.

You might have been better served by reading less this week.

Never confuse a football “fan” with a football “expert”.

Charles Johnson and Mike Vrabel play for the Patriots. But they haven’t always.

Well, Dad, one of us has to say it. It’s time.

After all these years, Raider fans finally know how Patriot fans feel.

I am not so famous that I need a bodyguard. Mo Vaughn needed one when he’d visit the Foxy Lady. Maybe Mark Cuban had one when he worked at that Dairy Queen today. If you see Drew Bledsoe in a mosh pit bar, you’re the one that will need a bodyguard, not Drew.

Did you ever get so mad that you threw a football at your parent’s television set?

The prospects of frigid weather next Saturday night suddenly isn’t such a bad thing.

Another weekend of no Patriots. Sigh.

Who in New England really likes “Primetime”? Depends upon what you’re referring to.

Thanks, Jets. Now we hate you again.

How in the world can you feel concerned after a 32-point win that clinches a division title and an eventual two seed for your team?