2 Things: Perception is Reality

ONE: Age Awareness

I've always felt I was aging gracefully. That is, until recently.

My mother gifted me with a baby face confounding even the most astute age prognosticators. Fatherhood actually makes me feel younger than I am at times. And, while I'm a bit thinner on top, I figure I'm doing pretty good at a field-goal away from 40. But then I looked down after a recent manscaping session and it hit me: my balls are looking pretty fucking wrinkled.

That's right. I said it.

My newly noticed wrinkly balls made me feel suddenly old.

The thing is, I'm not sure if they've always been this wrinkled or not. I mean, all balls are wrinkled, right? Do balls get more wrinkled as you age? I have been using more blue label Gold Bond powder than lotion lately, though, so maybe that as opposed to age is the culprit.

Don't judge me. I like how it tingles.

TWO: Big Contradictions in Small Packages

Speaking of age, the older I get the more I realize one's profession dictates how one is perceived by others. And I'm not talking about doctors or lawyers being respected because of their chosen careers, y'all. What I am talking about is how an individual's profession can be used as an excuse for his behavior.

Let's take the old Napoleon Complex as a for instance. You know, men who's insecurity is overcome with excessive compensation. We all have a few men of small stature in our lives who can be a bit on the abrasive side. But, instead of universally labeling each an "asshole," we let their job mandate our opinion of them.

Small athletes are applauded for their effort and big hearts. Small white collar professionals are awarded for their tenacity. Small blue collar workers are credited as being "the salt of the earth." Socially, these guys are just assholes, but their jobs provide a cloak of acceptance and tolerance.

And I'm not saying it's a ubiquitous theorem or anything. It works in most cases, but not all. I mean, small porn stars are, well, just small.

But I'm sure they try real hard.

Quick Thinking: Rerun

We may be on opposite coasts, but us New Englanders have a unique understanding of the quarterback controversy currently circling around the San Francisco 49ers. After all, we watched the movie a decade ago.

Same plot. Different stars.

Our proven veteran sidelined by injury was played by a stoic Drew Bledsoe, not Alex Smith. And our hungry rookie wasn't Colin Kaepernick, but another at-the-time-unknown named Tom Brady. Defensive hits play the rapscallion in both interpretations: Mo Lewis then, Jo-Lonn Dunbar now. (Great villainous screen names, by the way.)

So rest easy, Bay Area. I think after the season has ended, you'll find Alex Smith playing poorly for another team and you'll have Mr. Kaepernick at the helm of 49er Nation.

Is he the next Tom Brady? That's not what I'm saying. What I am saying is you now have the two pieces essential to winning in today's league: A great coach and a very talented, hard-working, coachable quarterback. Enjoy the next decade.

Or however long the Harbaugh/Kaepernick marriage lasts.

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Quick Thinking
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-- The New England Patriots have a chance in the course of three weeks to show us, the delegates of Patriot Nation, if they're simply a regular season winning machine or a solid playoff team ready to make a legitimate run at another Super Bowl.

-- And they don't have to win all 3 games to do so.

-- But home-cooking means they should.

-- This is how I feel I look when I dance.



-- This is how I probably look, though.



-- I don't feel cheated because Lance Armstrong built a multi-million dollar empire of hope out of beating foes, including cancer, with lies, bribes and drugs.

-- I feel cheated because his pep talk at the end of Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story wasn't just Hollywood bullshit.

-- It was actual bullshit.

-- Man am I glad I never got caught on that yellow, livestrong wristband bandwagon back in '04.

-- Score 1 for the skeptic!

-- And for using "band" back-to-back in two different words.

-- Speaking of cheating, NFL players being suspended for Adderall use doesn't feel that big to me.

-- And it certainly doesn't feel like they're using it as a masking agent.

-- I mean, seriously, it's quite clear the majority of the NFL is on steroids or some mixed cocktail of performance enhancing drugs.

-- But do a little homework before you think taking a stimulant helps mask said use.

-- Because it doesn't.

-- Players most likely take Adderall to stay focused, improve endurance, reduce fatigue and sharpen their alertness when studying tape, learning game plans and performing on the field.

-- Which they're asked to do a lot more frequently this season.

-- And I don't hear any owner, fan, fantasy team manager, coach, or bettor complaining about it on Sunday.

-- Or Monday Night.

-- Or Thursday Night, for that matter.

-- Oh, or Saturday Night in late December.

-- Yup, definitely can't think of any logical reason why more players are testing positive for a stimulant these days.

-- Other than to mask their obvious steroid and PED use, of course.

Quick Thinking: Familiarity Breeds Contempt

Nine games into the season and the New England Patriots are still a complete mystery.

And not the good kind.

Mystery follows every team, dear readers. The good ones provide nervous moments as fans try to guess which player is going to step up and make a game winning play. But, here in Patriot Nation, we're stuck with hoping against losing plays.

Will it be our porous secondary? Our shaky kicking game? Or the offense that seems to stall with an incomplete pass at someone's feet in a game's critical moment when a first down or score will all but end the contest?

Ya, I don't know either.

Regardless of who which unit lets us down, though, I get the sense our Patriots are void of any mystery at all. We're simply more of what we've been in previous years: a team good enough to win but not quite good enough to win when it counts.

And I'm tired of knowing how the story ends.

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Quick Thinking
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-- Rumor has it the Red Sox "want to make a big splash" in the free agent market.

--  That kind of chatter reeks of desperation.

-- And inevitable disappointment.

-- The New York Jets are losing altitude at an alarming rate.

-- Where's Ted Striker when you need him? #80smoviereference

-- Or Roger Murdock, for that matter.

-- Speaking of the Los Angeles Lakers, how do you pass on a coach with 11 titles for D'Antoni when Kobe's window is closing faster than Tim Tebow's quarterback career.

-- If this NFL season has taught us anything, it's that Tim Tebow is to quarterbacking what Tyrannosaurus Rex would be to wide receivering.

-- Give it a minute.

-- BOOM! 

-- ...goes the dynamite.

-- Hey, Mr. Talib, I hope you can bring the same kind of Blast to our secondary as your surname brought to hip-hop.

-- Kweli!

-- Quote of the Week is awarded to my boy Mr. Octavio who said the following to a young lady sitting next to him at a bar the other night, "Hey, if I turn into a zombie during the Zombie Apocalypse, the first thing I'm gonna eat is your titties."

-- It's also my nominee for the Most Original Pick Up Line of All Time Award.

-- Some men's jeans are touted because they have crotch gussets.

-- Like as a selling point.

-- When's the last time you heard a girl say, "Hey, nice jeans. Love those gussets."?

-- Exactly.

-- And you ladies wonder why so many of us guys are fashionably challenged.

-- You get knee high boots, skinny jeans and yoga pants.

-- We get fucking crotch gussets.

Tecmo (Super) Bowl Strikes Back

NFL Films Presents: Tecmo Bowl will generate the same incredible popularity boost in public Tecmo Super Bowl tournaments as Chris Moneymaker's 2003 victory did for the World Series of Poker's main event.

Amateur's will start coming out of the woodwork and, while the latter is a bit more lucrative, it appears I only have one choice.

NES emancipated from storage?

Check.

Tecmo Super Bowl cartridge found?

Check.

Q-tips and isopropyl alcohol to perform a long overdue cleaning of said cartridge?

Check.

Tecmo Super Bowl is up and running in my living room again, y'all. Me, Barry Sanders and nose tackle Jerry Ball are coming for you.

All.

Challengers.

Welcome.

Quick Thinking: Going Viral

Have you guys heard about this chick at Cornell who filmed herself masturbating in the school library that's going
viral? Get out from under that rock if you haven't.

Or just click here to read about it.

I mean, I get it. The library was one of my favorite places to masturbate when I was in college. Good 'ol Phillips Memorial at PC.

God knows I wasn't studying every minute I was in there.

But the thing is, I never thought about filming myself doing it. Not once. I guess I should have because they say the camera adds 10 pounds. 

And I need all the help I can get.

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Quick Thinking
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-- A second Red Sox manager fired following a second disappointing Red Sox season in as many years.

-- At least they're consistent.

-- Bacon preparation is a good omen for any meal.

-- Regardless of the time of day.

-- It's not the people who won't forget transgressions and mistakes that bother me.

-- It's the ones who conveniently forget acts of kindness and support that I can't stand.

-- I like summer and all, but a sip of Octoberfest, a little football & my favorite serial killer back on TV make the transition into fall a bit more bearable.

-- Taken 2 looks bad ass. #goodluck

-- Charlize Theron still has it.



-- Actually not sure she ever lost it.

-- Soapbox Moment of the Week is awarded to my one of my co-workers (to protect the identity of the innocent, let's simply call him "John") who, when informed of an inventory discrepancy, declared the following for our entire staff to hear, "This company is ridiculous. Where I come from, when you tell a client something is available, it needs to be available. That's where I come from."

-- My response earns me Quote of the Week honors, "Right, Availability. I've heard of that town. It's down south in one of the Carolinas, isn't it?"

-- I think it earns me a few bonus asshole points as well.

Sacrificial Pack

I have here an open letter to a Green Bay Packer fan:

Dear Cheesehead,

I was recently shown by a media outlet a statement from National Football League Commissioner Roger Goodell that you are a fan of the most storied franchise in NFL history, the Green Bay Packers, who suffered an abominable loss on the field of battle Monday Night in Seattle.

I feel how weak and fruitless must be any words of mine which should attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming as a result of simultaneous possession and substandard officiating. But I cannot refrain from tendering to you the consolation that may be found in the thanks of NFL fans everywhere saved by the scrutiny surrounding the final second mishap.

I pray that the new labor agreement sparked by Monday night's calamity may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the previous loss, how it ended labor strife, and the solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of professional competition and compromise.

Yours very sincerely and respectfully,

NFL Nation

Football Haiku

We will now embrace

the defining sport of sports

kickoff day is here

Memory Mile

"I know you hurtin' and worryin', I can feel it on you, but you oughta quit on it now."

- John Coffey

The Green Mile is still, to this day, the single film to evoke tears from me while in an actual movie theater.

Other than The Notebook, of course.

I assure you there was no sobbing, no whimpering. Tears were simply streaming down my cheeks as if I had faulty plumbing. It was bananas...like a reflex that couldn't be helped. Or maybe the "incident" serves as a small shred of evidence that I do, in fact, have a heart.

But I doubt it.

For you trivia buffs, the third movie to ever make me cry was the video from my wedding day. True story.

Lucky for me, the emotion lasted about as long as my marriage did.

All joking aside, rest in peace, Mr. Duncan. May the memory of your life offer solace to loved ones battling the heartache of your passing.

Quick Thinking: Faking It

I don't understand babies with mohawks. More specifically, I don't understand parents who give their babies mohawks. They're like adults who wear monogrammed clothing in public who aren't stranded on an island named Thurston or Lovey: they just doesn't make sense.

So let's get it together, folks.

I mean, unless you're a celebrity or an eccentric billionaire try and limit public displays of manufactured coolness, ok? Keep that shit in-house where it belongs, y'all. Behind the proverbial closed green door.

Because, frankly, both are the social equivalent of working out at a gym with your own shake weight. Monogrammed, of course.

Thanks in advance.

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Quick Thinking

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-- Makes me a little sad Larry Bird's digital Dream Team '92 counterpart in NBA 2K13 looks less like a "baller" and more like an extra on History's Swamp People.



-- See. It's sad, right?

-- Cable channel replays have breathed new life into A Tribe Called Quest's documentary Beats, Rhymes & Life: The Travels of A Tribe Called Quest.

-- If you're a fan of Tribe and haven't invested a few hours watching it, I would recommend you do so immediately.

-- Stir it up.

-- Big ups to Morgan Freeman for being one of the first women in history to be welcomed by storied Augusta National Golf Club.

-- Wait, what? That's not Morgan Freeman, it's Condoleezza Rice?

-- Oh, my bad.

-- Lucky for her, sharing the locker room with other members shouldn't be a big deal. Her dick is probably bigger than theirs.

-- Even in a cold shower.

-- Make no mistake though, y'all, her admission has zero to do with gender equality and everything to do with securing advertising revenue in the future.

-- #cha-ching!

-- Memo to All the Fellas Inspired by Mad Men Wearing Tie-bars: proper placement is between the 3rd and 4th button of your shirt.

-- Barely covered by your suit jacket's top button is also acceptable.

-- Near your tie's knot is not.

-- Make it happen.

-- Can you imagine if the Patriots were able to wrestle an unhappy Jones-Drew away from the Jaguars?

-- I can.

-- Hey, Roger, can't you find a different way to recapture your youth?

-- Other than doing steroids & HGH, of course.

-- You're 50. Let it go, brother.

-- Let.

-- It. 

-- Go.

Quick Thinking: Double (Gold) Standards

While you celebrate Christian Grey and the shortness of breath he provides, ladies, remember, as you exhale, he also effectively kills all that "men are pigs" chatter us guys have dealt with on a daily basis since the beginning of time.

We're largely visual beings and you're largely emotional beings. That's not news. But the runaway success of 50 Shades shows that we're both most certainly sexual beings.

You just like to read about it whereas we like to look at it.

I mean, c'mon, we're men. Lazy is what we do best.

So enjoy the freedom and empowerment sexual expression provides but be aware it brings with it more than just freedom. Sexual expression also brings with it a frustrating mess called "double standards."

Welcome to our world.

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Quick Thinking

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-- Congrats on all your medals, Mr. Phelps. You can swim really fast.

-- We get it.

-- I'd like to see how you'd fare with a 6-foot inflatable turtle named Ralph in the pool, though.

-- I hope retirement offers you some quiet moments to truly appreciate your accomplishments and gifts you time to gain perspective on a historic career.

-- I also hope it offers you some time to see a dentist.

-- Quote of the Week is awarded to this guy for responding the following when asked if I was bringing anyone with me to a friend's pseudo-birthday party, "Nope. I'm solo. Like Han. Only not frozen in carbonite."

-- Yup, I'm a Star Wars geek.

-- Throwback Song of the Week is The Truth from Handsome Boy Modeling School.

-- Groovy is all there is.

-- Big ups to the NFL's 2012 Hall of Fame inductees including one Curtis Martin who was a big part of Patriot Nation's renaissance in the 90's and helped lay groundwork for today's success.

-- Good effort with your beat down against Nigeria, Team USA, but your dominance fell short of RHP's margin of victory during a 1st round playoff game back in the summer of '00: 132-41.

-- True story.

-- I know you have Black Mamba and King James and all.

-- But we had my boy Geese.

-- And sometimes Geese is all you need.

Magic Shades

I'm growing tired of all the complaints coming from my male counterparts these days. I keep hearing comments like, "All she does is talk about 50 Shades" this and "She wants me to take her to Magic Mike to look at naked guys" that. Listen, fellas, please don't let insecurity cloud your judgement here.

Now is not the time for complaints.

Now is the time for applauding the efforts of women who are embracing a fictional sadist and a group of male strippers as the springboard to asserting their own sexuality. Freak flags are out, boys. And the only thing your complaints are doing is preventing them from flying free.

Let them fly free, baby.

The thing is, I understand why you might feel insecure. Really. I do. But you need to shift the paradigm and realize Magic Mike and Mr. Grey aren't your competition.

Not even close.

What they are, in fact, is your ally. Maybe not your best friend, but definitely someone you should admire for the service they're providing.

Yup, I said it.

Male strippers on the big screen and Christian Grey between the pages are the greatest warming trays of all time. (Even better than the ones at your favorite all-you-can-eat Chinese food place!) And you wanna know why?

Easy.

Once the credits roll and the final chapter ends, guess who all these women are going to look toward in an attempt to transform their newly found fantasies into reality? That's right: You.

You, big guy.

So it's time to man up and enjoy the circumstances you've been gifted. Put away the animosity, shed the insecurity and let these ladies express themselves. Because you know that dream you have every summer? Well, it's happening all around you.

And it's happening right now.

The weather is hot, single girls everywhere are reading porn and, as a result, they're all horny as hell while on the look-out for their own personal Christian Grey or Magic Mike.

Stop complaining about it.

2 Things: Feeding Emotions

ONE: Day Dream Teaming

The 1992 USA Basketball "Dream Team" is, and always will be, the best basketball team ever assembled. Shit, the Dream Team is the best team ever assembled in the history of teams and Kobe's assertion otherwise is ludicridiculous.

That's right.

Ludicridiculous.

Because there isn't a word in today's English language that effectively captures the level of idiocy & ignorance found in his statement.

Other than ludicridiculous, of course.

TWO: Literary Love Connection

The success of Twilight & 50 Shades has zero to do with their respective author's literary prowess or story quality and everything to do with a woman's longing for love. All kinds of love, really. Doesn't matter.

Real? Fictional?

Whatever.

Being treasured by vampires, werewolves or a sadist?

That works.

A woman's desire for being loved is the equivalent to an emotional pizza craving.

And any slice will satisfy.

Quick Thinking: Battle of the Senses

Hey, Ladies, you can keep Shades of Grey, Johnny Depp, Team Jacob, Justin Timberlake, Ryan Reynolds, George Clooney, Team Edward, The Jonas Brothers, Brad Pitt, Bradley Cooper, Magic Mike, David Beckham, Ryan Gosling, McSteamy, McDreamy AND McConaughey.

I'll take Jessica Biel.

Game.



Set.



Match.

Viva La Stool Sample!

There's a old saying that goes something like, "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."

Unless you're asking George W., of course.

And, Georgie's interpretation notwithstanding, I need to note said famous idiom as I highlight the fact the boys over at Barstool Sports stole from me again.

Yup. Again.

They found their most recent "Guess That Ass" contestant Jessica Rafalowski, who has also become el presidente's newest favorite girl on earth, because of yours truly.

That's right, I said it.

The media powerhouse that is "El Prez" got his content from the lowly world of sports+thoughts for the second time since I answered an open job invite back in February of 2010. The proof is in my previous blog, the below pictures from his latest rape and, of course, the pudding.

Exhibit A: Posted by sports + thoughts on 6/13/12.



Exhibit B: Posted by el prez on 6/15/12.



Shameful, indeed.

Now that I think of it, there's another famous idiom that says, "Pride comes before the fall." Or maybe I'm thinking of a lesser known one that warns, "Steal from me once, shame on you. Steal from me twice, go fuck yourself."

I get them confused.

I'm not drinking the haterade, Portnoy. I get it. You're doing what all large companies do: steal from the little guy and call "dibs." I get it. It's smart business. Barstool Sports is the blueprint for what blogs can become and possesses the type of brand recognition sports+thoughts could only dream of. (Not to mention cornering the market on college girl creeping and boy wonder howitzer pictures.)

Sandusky much?

Listen, if you want to stand on the shoulders of an unknown blogger and call yourself tall, that's fine. At least have the courage to recognize the skills, chief. I may not be as well known as you are now but my success in some media capacity is inevitable and, when I achieve it, I'm gonna become the proverbial thorn in your side.

Believe it.

But, until I get there, I'll have to formulate a different plan. My gut tells me it will involve your wife, an affair, followed by cell phone pictures posted on my blog. I'm guessing she's a "good Jewish girl" but, if she's not, I'll make her one and see how strong those "dibs" calls of yours really are.

I guess you're not the only one who has a new favorite girl on earth, brother.

Game on.

Quick Thinking: Cookie Monsta

There's a group of you who have experienced Connie's Kitchen and, as a result, already know what truth lives behind the following statement: My Moms can bake. Straight up.

This blog is for those who missed that opportunity.

Connie bakes treats. And not just any kind of treats, y'all. She bakes the kind of treats that, after you eat them, you can recall with absolute clarity where you were when you first tried one, the kind of treats that make memories for you, the kind of treats that you want everyone you know to have, the kind of treats that you always crave and the kind of treats you can never have enough of.

Baking skills like you read about.

And, now that she's moving toward the next chapter of her life, Connie is going to start offering those treats to paying customers. (That's right, "Let them eat Connie's Kitchen" is right around the corner.) But, before we get the goodness out there, we need to build a brand, find a voice and raise customer awareness.

That's where me & my friends at Stebbings come in.

They bring the design heat.




See?

I bring, well...um, charm, I guess. (Actually, I don't bring much charm.)

I can bring some word skills at times, though.

With that in mind, below is a draft of the product blurbs and voice I've constructed to go along with Stebbings logo for Connie's new venture. Her baking chops may have passed me by, but the skill of molding everyday ingredients into something consumable for the masses has not.

Sweet.

#himom

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Connie's Kitchen Thinking
--------------------------------

COOKIES

Chocolate Chip

The world’s most recognized cookie mixed with a dash of our secret ingredient: Connie’s TLC™.

And, trust us, that makes all the difference.

Chocolate Crinkles

Chocolate deliciousness showered in powdered sugar.

Looks like milk isn’t the only one who just found a new favorite cookie.

Oatmeal Raisin

The wholesome oats and raisins along with Connie’s TLC™ will surely stir memories from your childhood. Or create them.

Time traveling has never been so sweet. (Just don’t forget to buckle your safety belt!)

Oatmeal Cranberry Chunk

We replaced the raisins with cranberries and added white chocolate chips to satisfy your sweet tooth. Think of them as oatmeal raisin’s long lost cousin.

Let the friendly family flavor feud begin!

Peanut Butter

Classic, salty & sweet. These handcrafted cookies may have been pressed into form with a fork, but each was certainly shaped with love.

Shaped with Connie’s TLC™, to be exact.

Raspberry Thumbprints

Buttery shortbread, raspberry preserves and an almond glaze are the main culprits that make up these unique treats.

Lucky for you, eating more than one isn’t a crime.

Snickerdoodles

We’re not sure where snickerdoodles gained their namesake either. But we know the cinnamon sugar goodness is no mystery.

It’s elementary, my dear.

Sugar

The cookie in its most basic form.  6 ingredients: Sugar, eggs, butter, flour, vanilla and, of course, Connie’s TLC™. Yes, they’re simple.

But far from plain.


SPECIALTIES

Brownie Bites

Fudgy goodness that will help you scratch those anytime-of-day chocolate itches.

Yes. It’s ok to keep scratching.

Chocolate Chip Squares

Our classic chocolate chip cookie revisited. (Well, actually just reshaped.) Turns out it is hip to be square.

It’s yummy, too.

Connie’s TLC™ Squares

A layer of shredded coconut on top of a layer of chocolate chips on top of a layer of walnuts on top of a layer of graham cracker crust all topped with Connie’s TLC™.

If you don’t feel the love, we know your taste buds will.

Date and Nut Squares

Dates & nuts mixed together give these cakey squares their signature taste. Powdered sugar gives them their signature look.

We’ll give you permission to enjoy both.

Peanut Butter Balls

Our trademark specialty: Hand-rolled peanut butter batter dipped in Connie’s homemade chocolate sauce.

We’re pretty sure you’ll love them to pieces.

Raisin Squares

They don’t wear glasses. And they’re not from California. But they will make your taste buds dance.

Or so we heard. (Through the grapevine, of course.)

Toffee Nut Bars

Decadent dessert bars molded with Connie’s TLC™ out of brown sugar, coconut and walnuts. They’re sweet. They’re buttery. They’re nutty.

Grab ‘em.

You Know How I Know You're Gay?

I'm not sure what makes me feel more gay:

a) Bringing my laptop with me to the Nissan dealership so I can blog while waiting for my Juke to get her scheduled tune-up.

or

b) The fact that I actually drive a Nissan Juke.

Tough call.

It's A Celebration, Bitches!

Today is my birthday. That's right, May 14th is my birthday.

May 14th, 1975 to be exact.

And, while I won't we taking advantage of my local chain restaurant's button-filled vested clapping birthday chorus line, I will be taking advantage of the reflective pause birthday's offer.

Birthday's gift us with an opportunity to reflect on the past year, give thanks for the good -- hopefully remember what we learned from the bad, of course -- set benchmarks for future ones and reminisce the unavoidable moments that have shaped who we are at whatever age we're currently at.

A quick consult with Captain Math tells me I've reached 37 this year. A number, by the way, that is very surprising to me. But the surprise has less to do with my past near-death experience and more to do with the fact that I'm kind of an asshole yet no one has choked the life out of me.

(And by "kind of" I mean "definitively.")

So I guess I have that going for me.

Happy Birthday to me.

Quick Thinking: Used to Win

The media scrutiny surrounding Tom Brady's recent, um, "style malfunctions" has got people wondering, sometimes even aloud, a thought once considered blasphemy in Patriot Nation: what the hell has happened to our franchise quarterback?

And, frankly, it's difficult to think of anything else after viewing them.





See?

Lucky for us, the answer is simpler than you think. And it isn't found in the Spygate scandal or the Patriots suspect defense as of late or Wes Welker's near miss reception in last year's Super Bowl.

Nope, none of the above.

The answer can be found, however, in the most unlikely of sources: former pony-tailed, big screen bad ass Steven Seagal.

That's right.

Steven.

Seagal.

Brady is suffering from a classic case of Steven Seagal Syndrome, y'all. The waning star infliction. Our boy is the football talent equivalent of one gone from being able to clear a path to Richie with a towel, a cue ball and a few short clotheslines in Out for Justice to an overweight, past his prime has-been with diminishing skills writing folk music while playing sheriff in Louisiana.


 
On second thought, maybe this explanation doesn't make me feel as lucky as I thought.

It sucks but, truth be told, Brady isn't the winner he used to be. And we'll probably never see him be one again. His transition from Super Bowl winning quarterback to Gisele Bunchen's wife is nearly complete.

Curse you, Steven Seagal Syndrome.

And your shitty symptomatic folk music.

---------------------
Quick Thinking
---------------------

-- When Mike Wilbon & Tony Kornheiser talk sports, I listen.

-- Same goes for Scott Van Pelt.

-- I can't say the same for the "Big O" on WEEI.

-- Romance is the curse of the ugly.

-- So is greed.

-- Think about it.

-- Wearing my headset while playing Xbox feels like the scarlet letter of immaturity.

-- But still finding flatulence funny doesn't.

-- Go figure.

-- In light of all the "bounty" talk in sports, I'd like to admit my own past transgressions: every Thursday thru Sunday in college I had a bounty out on any Natty Ice beer can within my immediate reach.

-- Sometimes on Monday, too.

-- Shit, who am I kidding? The bounty was also in effect on Tuesday & Wednesday.

-- I hope you can all forgive me.

Quick Thinking: Sleight of Hand

While discussing his new book Imperfect: An Improbable Life on ESPN Radio's The Herd Wednesday morning, Jim Abbott reflected on one of his greatest professional achievements: pitching a no-hitter at Yankee Stadium against the Cleveland Indians in 1993.

Think about that for a second.

Jim Abbott pitched a no-hitter with one hand. A no-hitter. With one hand.

Shit, the only thing I can do using one hand with any proficiency is masturbate. And I still need some help in the form of Warm Vanilla Sugar to get the job done. But a man who can't do push-ups , play patty-cake, or applaud his own efforts pitched a no-hitter.

Improbable indeed.

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Quick Thinking
------------------

-- Despite their post All-Star break improvements, the Celtics have no shot at winning a championship this year.

-- No shot.

-- No.

-- Shot.

-- Same goes for this year's iteration of the Red Sox.

-- "I Call Bullshit!" Award of the Week goes to Baylor standout Brittney Griner for telling USA basketball officials she would not play in this summer's London Olympics citing "summer school course load" and some sort of "family illness."

-- Would have been more believable if she said she had to wash her hair.

-- Has to make you wonder why an athlete would forgo a chance to represent her country and build a brand for future endorsement deals because she needs to "go to class."

-- Can't have anything to do with those pesky blood & urine tests Olympic athletes are subject to, can it?

-- Or the fact that she would probably have to take the later standing up.

-- Speaking of which, melting urinal cakes seems more like an Olympic sport than curling.

-- Just saying.

-- Memo to the Producers of the Recently Announced Entourage Movie: The easiest way to guarantee the movie's success is by paying Sloan whatever it takes to get nude on camera.

-- Having her character make a bad decision by showing some skin can't be that tough of a sell, right?



-- I mean, c'mon, it's not like we're asking her to marry "E."

-- Oh, wait...

-- Watching America's Game: The Patriots on NFL Network served as a great reminder of when Brady used to deliver in the 4th Quarter of big games. Remember the last time that happened?

-- Ya, me neither.