(All photos from Boston.com)
Dear Patriots Running Game:
Dear Offensive Line:
Tom Brady does not belong ass-backwards on the ground. Knock it off and sack up.
Dear Laurence Maroney:
I think we’re going to get along just fine.
Dear Troy Brown:
All my love,
Wide receivers? We don’t NEED no stinkin’ wide receivers!
Thanks for showing up. Finally.
Dear New Kicker Guy:
Don’t worry, we hardly remember that other guy anyway. Promise.
Dear Richard Seymour:
I created a dance creatively titled the “Richard Seymour Was Involved In A Key Defensive Play” Dance. There’s a lot of spinning involved. I’m kinda dizzy. But don’t worry, I didn’t throw up on your jersey. Yet.
Dear JP Losman,
Just throw it away. Don’t take the safety. Throw it away. They’re going to find you and it’s going to be ugly. Trust me. I know. I’ve been there.
What the shit was that? You think you’re gonna be able to pull that shit with the Jets next week? Don’t think so. You better get on the fucking stick, boys. This isn’t pre-season anymore. Don’t make me cut you.
It’s the best I could do after dry-heaving my way through the game, urbanzing the shit out of my Willie McGinest jersey with the aide of some medical tape and a black Sharpie to make it a Junior Seau jersey, drinking entirely too many beers in succession, creating new dances for touchdowns, field goals and stellar defensive plays and being subjected to approximately 4,874 commercials involving one, two or three members of the Manning family. From now on, I want certain games declared Manning-Free Zones. I’ve had enough.
Also, Golden Boy Matt Leinart has apparently knocked someone up. Who had September 10th in the pool? And she’s a USC basketball player too. So, to overuse what is surely the most popular joke regarding Leinart’s situation, even though both of them are Trojans, neither one of them understand the concept. Right, like I wasn’t already going to hell.
Other games I paid attention to for obvious or stupid reasons:
Tampa Bay? Ouch.
Denver: It doesn’t bode well if Jim Nantz says, following your game, “If you’re relying on Jake Plummer to save your season, you’re fucked.” (I’m paraphrasing).
Manning Bowl: I actually said, out loud, in front of witnesses, “Come on, Eli!” I hate myself. But I hate the Mannings more.
Now, who’s excited about football season?