Hi I'm Gregg Easterfuck and I Know Nothing About Football

I just finished reading this week's Tuesday Morning Quarterback over at ESPN.com. Yes, I realize that it is Friday. But Easterbrook is completely incapable of 1.) making a point in less than 800 words and 2.) making any fucking sense whatsoever. What I really don't understand is why ESPN rehired this piece of shit after his anti semitic remarks. Granted, his political articles in the Atlantic Monthly prove that he has some intelligence and writing proficiency, Easterbrook doesn't know shit about shit when it comes to the No Fun League.

The very first point that Easterbrook makes is that the 2007 Patriots will only be considered the greatest only if the evidence shows that they didn't use the tapes to cheat. Sure Camera Gate happened and the Pats were caught stealing signals from the Jets. But that was the first fucking game of the season. And honestly, looking back, would New England really have lost that game? Definitely not.

Then Easterbrook poses the question whether or not the Pats still cheated during the season or if they will have cheated in the Super Bowl. Yeah, Easterbrook, I'm sure die Fuhrer Goodell isn't watching the Pats with an eagle eye after what happened in week one. This is the guy that would penalize his own son for trying to bang the head cheerleader of the high school team under the stands during practice. And I'm pretty sure Belichick isn't stupid enough to try twice. Especially when his teams won by a margin of about 3 touchdowns every game.

If that weren't enough stupidity for one article, Easterbrook goes on a morality rant for a paragraph. He tries to hammer home the issue of how supporting the Patriots teaches our children to cheat. Everyone who has played a contact sport in their lives knows that every play involves each player trying to push the limits of the rules and possibly breaking them without getting caught by the ref. We already tell our kids to cheat. Whether its getting some extra moisture on that baseball, nicking the leather with your nails, or tossing an elbow into a defender during a pick, sports are about straining the limits of fair play. Sure we have ideals that we stick to, but it's a part of every game. Furthermore, the Patriots embody the spirit of team more than any other organization in any sport. Sure, they have their individual stars, but during the season every player accepts their roles and plays to win for the team. Not for individual glory. And that should be respected. Obviously, Easterbrook, in his anti semitic rage, forgets to point this out.

And if that wasn't enough retarded banter for one Easterbrook article, he goes on to say that Belichick has a soft spot for the Giants and won't blow them out like he does other teams. Are you fucking kidding me Easterbrook? If Belichick has the opportunity to put 70 points on the board, trust me he's going to. He's a automaton. He stands there in his hooded sweatshirt and keeps calling 5 receiver sets out of the shotgun, and Brady keeps throwing it into the endzone. That's how he played the entire season, and that's how he's gonna play in the game that will galvanize his status as one of the best coaches ever along with Bill Walsh and Vince Lombardi. There's absolutely no way he's going to let a little sentimentality get in his way of immortality. That may be one of the most idiotic things any writer has written about a sports figure in the past decade. Honestly.

If you can honestly get through that iteration of Easterbrook's article and not be pissed at some point, then you are either 1.) a human being completely devoid of rational though or 2.) a Giants fan or 3.) both (because 2 is basically a subset of 1).

Dear Descartes, I Have Proof That God Doesn't Exist

Ah, Championship weekend in the NFL. This is the time when rivalries are created and great games are played. Hell, the Chargers almost seemed like they had a fighting chance against the Patriots. Either that or the Pats are getting a little worse as their deal with Mephistopheles is beginning to fade as he considers Archie Manning's offer.

With the divine Packers falling to the generally mediocre Giants, the Super Bowl is now an event where evil has won. Think about it. If the Patriots fulfill their destiny, we would have to crown a cheater and deal with the most obnoxious fans in pro sports today. Furthermore, the armies of Hell will be gathering at La Port de l'Enfer for when the Celtics get their shot at the NBA title. Then evil might be unstoppable in the form of Mickey from Southie.

And the team that is our only hope of defeating the Pats? Oh yeah, they are on the wings of signing with team Lucifer after the Patriots' contract expires. If the Giants somehow emerge victorious, then the Manning brothers will have won consecutive Super Bowls. Jesus, we'd have to put up with that statistic until aliens come to our world in 1000 years and blow us to bits. I'm already convinced that Archie Manning is a lesser demon in Satan's realm, so what's not to say that he didn't sign a little pact of his own? It would explain the sudden excellence of play the Giants are demonstrating...

Plus, I'd have to deal with every Tony, Sal, and guido fuck in Jersey for the next year wearing their brand new Ahmad Bradshaw jerseys talking about football like they know something about it.

Either way, we're all fucked. And that's why God doesn't exist. If He were listening, he'd have the Patriots in the Super Bowl against the beloved Packers and the gunslinger Brett Favre. Evil is always personified as cold and calculating like the Patriots and their surgical West Coast attack. Good is in the form of the crazy firebrand who does whatever it takes to get the job done.

It would have been a classic matchup of good vs. evil, East Coast yuppies v. everyone else, and everyone would be have a rooting interest. Now we have to deal with supreme evil against rising evil, Guidos against Micks, and Boston versus New York (again). Jesus, at least the goddamn Knicks eat dick.

Eat it Descartes, cognito ergo sum is bullshit. Maybe you should have created some other crazy mathematical formulae for me to memorize in high school instead of listening to the voices in your head (aka God).

Blue

I woke up today and realized that I hate myself. It only took a series of smaller revelations, one 27” television and a look in the mirror.

I realized that Jared Lorenzen is listed at 285 pounds. And then I remembered that I was listed in my high school football program at 5’9” when I was actually 5’6”.

I realized that Osi Umenyiora vowed to jump off the George Washington Bridge if he wasn’t the best defensive end in the NFL this season. Part of me actually believed him.

It had something to do with the fact that Brandon Jacobs broke down week one when I didn’t expect him to fall apart until week eight.

I remembered that I spent roughly three hours of my life searching the Internet for a picture of a claymation character from Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer with red cheeks that looks just like Tom Coughlin. And I never did find that picture.

I realized that although I hate seeing Tiki Barber in a suit behind a desk, and that as much as I hate the fact that he criticizes his former team on national television, I can’t help but think what nice teeth he has.

I remembered that while Jeremy Shockey is healthy now, I know that he will be questionable by week three with an ankle injury. These are the things I can count on in life.

I realized that the only thing more nauseating than looking the back of a defensive back’s jersey as he chases a receiver with five yards between them is doing the same when that defenders initials are “R.W.”

I concluded that no hope is probably better than false hope.

I realized that in addition to the heartache and stomach pain caused by each game, I will have to grip my remote control on commercial breaks again this season for fear of another “Our Country” commercial. Obviously my letters of complaint to Chevrolet made no impact. Hopefully my boycott will.

I wonder what Trey Junkin is doing right now.

This morning I looked on the countertop in the bathroom and didn’t see a glass half full. I saw a bottle of Pepto Bismol two thirds empty. I chugged most of it during halftime and after the game.

I hate myself because I love the New York Giants.