'Hard Knocks' is Back in a Big Way, As it Plays Perfectly to the Raiders' Strengths as a Circus6/12/2019
Now this, this is how you resurrect a franchise. In saying that, I am quite obviously not talking about a decidedly dysfunctional NFL franchise that needs another distraction about as badly as they need a second (or third, or fourth, or fifth) asshole. Rather, I am talking about a 'Hard Knocks' franchise that's set to do numbers while covering every level of an organization that was basically built to be viewed from the outside in as a guilty pleasure of football fans everywhere. From a front office that is headed by a grown ass man with a bowl cut, to a sideline that is run by a head coach with a penchant for preaching the patently ridiculous more profoundly than a blind guy standing on a city sidewalk screaming towards the heavens, to a roster that reads like role call at an athletic asylum. The Raiders were made for this moment as their volatile cast of characters makes those of even the most ridiculous reality shows seem more shameful than shameless. Seeing as their chances of competing for a Super Bowl are about the same as the odds of Vontaze Burfict playing a suspension-less 16 game season, this feature is their Super Bowl. Therefore, I suspect they'll make of it a spectacle that makes the actual Super Bowl look about as entertaining as a forced training camp storyline by comparison. Richie Incognito is probably already crafting conspiracy theories for a camera that Antonio Brown is planning to shove up his own ass so that it can get a better look at his shit-eating grin while Jon Gruden can be heard evangelizing the sweet, sweet nothings of 1980's-inspired cliches in the background. Honestly, the biggest concern HBO should have is not producing quality content, but rather editing an amount of must-see footage that would overwhelm Mike Mayock during draft season. This Raiders have the potential to make Hue Jackson's last hurrah seem stable, and in doing so they have the potential to produce a documentary that needs not dramatization in making 'Hard Knocks' back into the exact opposite of an intervention as the type of sports' soap opera that makes for the preseason's only appointment television. Get ready Las Vegas, for this show could make for such a perfect Sin City audition that there might eventually be a strip-side adaptation.
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There's one thing that the Saints can cross off from the top of their to-do list, and considering Cam Jordan's unwaveringly elite impact on the field and his leadership off of it, they can do so with a shit-eating grin on their collective face. As proven by Mark Ingram's dumbfounding departure, nothing about the cutthroat business of the NFL is inevitable. So, while this extension felt as though it was only a matter of time, it's comforting that said time has already come. As expected from someone who made his intentions to be a "Saints' lifer" known, Cam Jordan - who had every right to break Mickey Loomis' bank as the most versatile of All-Pro pass-rushers - agreed to leave a little money on the table in exchange for the majority of that which he will take home being almost as guarantee as (::knock on wood::) his dominant presence on the defensive line...
With the negotiations of Sheldon Rankins, Alvin Kamara, Marshon Lattimore, and especially Michael Thomas looming all-too-rapidly, it's nice to put any order of business in the rearview. Even if it is just business as usual with a player who, quite frankly, has been too understanding in offering up (adopted) hometown discounts for performances and production that are consistently above his pay grade. New Orleans' defense might as well revolve around Cam Jordan with how reliably revered he's been throughout his career, and he more than deserved to get compensated for his role as its brightest star until he retires as an absolute shoe-in for the Saints' Hall of Fame.
I can't imagine it's all that important to Chauncey Gardner-Johnson's impending NFL journey that he is willing to test his coverage capabilities against one of the most transcendent athletes playing an entirely different sport, while he is on the downside of his career in said sport, free of charge. After all, he's actually being paid to lock up actual football players, so it stands to reason that should be pretty far ahead atop the list of his priorities. Nonsensical cross-sport competitiveness aside, however, I absolutely love the level of self-contained cockiness he's shown, both on and off the field, since his suspiciously belated selection. I'd certainly hope he could mirror the rudimentary and rounded-off routes of a 34-year old NBA player, no matter how freakish his athleticism, but that's not really the point. The point is that the Saints' 4th round pick will fit right into the collectively confident culture of New Orleans' secondary as he has a 1st round grade when it comes to unabashedly believing in his talent. Considering the dynamic versatility of said talent, as well as the quickness with which he flashed it during practices that far and away favor the offense, there's reasons to believe that we'll be seeing it trusted in far more important circumstances than lined up opposite LeBron sooner rather than later.
The Magic Man is Back as Ryan Fitzpatrick is Out Here Dropping No-Look Dimes at Dolphins OTA's6/6/2019
Clutch those pearls, Josh Rosen! It appears there's still quite a bit of magic in that Ivy League-educated arm! In all seriousness, let me first say that I very much enjoyed this clip. In fact, the only thing that's stopping me from saying that I loved it from the deepest depths of my heart is that it has yet to be placed side-by-side with a clip of that same no-look pass resulting in either a pick-6 or a concussed spectator when the magic wears off and Ryan Fitzpatrick inevitable turns back into the quarterback equivalent of a pumpkin. That might come off as condescending, but I genuinely appreciate that, in a league that claims to value consistency yet constantly finds itself imprisoned by any optimistic moment under center, exists a player who knows not mediocrity at a position with which it's most prominent. Ryan Fitzpatrick has seen himself pull off the incredible just often enough to continue attempting it, even though it's just as often he's been made to look like a damn fool by doing so. Speaking as someone who doesn't have to live and die with his performances, it actually makes for spectacular theatre. Will it be a tale of triumph or tale of tragedy? A show inspired by Pat Mahomes or Pat White? Might as well flip a coin, but let him confidently slinging the rock outside his line of sight while on the run serve as a reminder that this particular "coin", almost without fail, makes for one entertaining flip.
PFT- Jets running back Le'Veon Bell apparently has plenty of jewelry. For now, he has more than $500,000 less of it.
Via the Associated Press, two women allegedly robbed Bell of a more than a half million in jewelry last month. Per the report, two female acquaintances — described in the police report as girlfriends of Bell — absconded with the jewelry. Bell claims that he returned from the gym on May 25 to find the women gone, along with the jewelry. The New York Post reports that Bell claims to have lost via the theft two gold chains with diamonds, a black panther pendant with black and white diamonds and a Rolex. The total value amounts to $520,000. The theft happened in Hollywood, Florida. Bell has joined the Jets this week for the first time, to participate in the team’s mandatory offseason minicamp. --------- Unlike most Steelers' fans, I presume, I do feel bad for Le'Veon Bell here. Surely he'll be able to restock the old jewelry closet with those incredibly elusive fat ass checks he'll finally be collecting from the New York Jets, but - no matter your means - it always stings more when stung by people you even temporarily trust. That said, seeing as those people were simultaneous "girlfriends", or something close enough to be both described as such in a police report and offered unsupervised access to his place, I do feel as though it's fair to question his street smarts. I don't have one significant other, but even I know that if you have two concurrently that it's only a matter of time before they become closer to one another than they are to you. Somewhere in the fine print of 'Girl Code' is a stipulation binding all sexual partners of common man to bond over the shared experiences. When said experiences are shared with a professional athlete who clearly isn't the world's most loyal lover, it's only a matter of time before he becomes the target of the gossip when gone. Now, I think it goes without saying that such situations don't always end in a half a million dollar jewelry heist. However, that's risk you run as a rich man when you accept the reward of "dating" two chicks from Florida who are crazy enough to be cool with it. Especially when you don't have the foresight to lock them the hell out whenever it is that you leave. When in doubt, which Le'Veon Bell absolutely should have been, it must always be remembered that these hoes ain't loyal, which is true to the tenth power when offered absolutely no reason to be. TL:DR version: Typical Jets.
Free of context, I don't hate those answers from the first-time head coach and the second-year quarterback of a team that should be prioritizing cohesiveness, discipline, dedication, and loyalty throughout an organization that has suffered from a lack there of throughout multiple decades of doomed dysfunction. I just think they'd make a hell of a lot more sense if they weren't in reference to a previously productive, longer-tenured player who, up until this point, hasn't said boo despite being treated like a complete afterthought throughout last regular season and this offseason. As a versatile back who is in his prime as a reliable runner and the perfect complimentary playmaker in the age of pass-happy offenses, Duke Johnson Jr. somehow had all of one single game with double-digit touches last year. That year, mind you, was one in which Baker Mayfield (mostly) served as his quarterback and Freddie Kitchens served as his position coach turned offensive coordinator. Enter Kareem Hunt alongside Nick Chubb, and there is next to no reason for someone whose position doesn't allow him many lost seasons to believe that he'll be a oft-utilized beneficiary of the ball distribution in a backfield that has just as many mouthes to feed. If the Browns didn't make it crystal clear how they felt about Duke Johnson Jr. when they offered him 2-3 pity carries a week then they sure as shit did when they floated his name on the trading block as of March. Therefore, it feels rather hypocritical of their leadership committee to start talking tough and playing hardball as if they aren't well aware of who slapped the 'For Sale' sign on him in the first place. Especially since one of the members of that leadership committee had to transfer schools to get an optimal opportunity and motivated himself to become a quality pro by taking far less legitimate slights personal since. Contract be damned, since NFL teams have insured themselves a pretty penny by treating those as though they're as binding as a pinky promise with a used-car salesman. Put Baker Mayfield in Duke Johnson Jr.'s shoes and he'd have already been stomping them in hopes of ending up in a situation that better suited what was, objectively speaking, a woefully wasted skill-set. And honestly, it would take someone speaking selfishly in carefully walking the company line to blame him if he did.
HoustonChronicle- Mike Atkinson, one of the state’s longest-tenured high school football referees, has been suspended for the 2019 season by the Texas Association of Sports Officials after making racist comments.
Atkinson, who owns Atkinson Farms in Spring and has been a high school football official for 45 years, admits to using the N-word several times in conversations, audio clips of which were provided to the Houston Chronicle by the person who made the recordings. “I thought these were private conversations between friends,” Atkinson said. “I promise you with my life, using the N-word by me is true, but I will promise you with my life, my wife's life, my kids’ life and everything I do, (the person who taped him) also used that word. “We were back and forth. I understand what it sounds like, but I was baited into it.” In one of the clips, Atkinson addresses a “Chapter and Crew Mixer” hosted by the Houston Football Chapter of TASO, held at Kirby Ice House on Feb. 10. “I just went to the mixer the other day … a bunch of f------ n-----s wanting a free meal,” Atkinson said. The context isn’t clear in the other clips, but they include the following statements: “He would find a way to n----- it up.” “There probably was some of them … (a black official) thought he had, ’cause he wanted to be the big n-----.” Atkinson told the Chronicle he had no issues with having a black person on his crew if he could find a good one. Brian Raines, who is black, was on his 2018 crew. “They’re putting all this out there that I’m a big-time racist and all this,” Atkinson said. “For the people that know me, they know that’s not true.” Atkinson said he does not regularly use the N-word. “I know what it sounds like when you hear those clips,” he said. “But I’m talking to (the person who made the recordings) in a private conversation, and he’s using the word, and I said it a couple times. “I’m a jokester. I like to listen to things. I watch Black Entertainment Television all the time because I think it’s hilarious. I may have picked up something … I don’t know. I don’t know.” -------- Aside from the obvious, which was the casual and repetitive use of a slur that's meant to undermine the entire existence of black people as equals, I sneaky think one of the biggest clues that Mike Atkinson is a racist who thinks of his whistle as a weapon of white power is that he referred to BET as "Black Entertainment Television". Finding an objectively funnier race to be humorous wouldn't help his argument anyway, as he was apparently dropping n-bombs like they were set to explode on the tip of his tongue, but I can't help but find myself wondering what old, TV Guide-subscribing Texan fed him that elongated acronym as a defense. As far as dead giveaways that someone doesn't watch BET are concerned, they don't get more fatal than pronouncing the channel's every single syllable as though you're surprised such a thing even exists. Now, I suppose that's hardly the only aspect of this story that has his hands looking as red as his neck. Proudly pointing to the ONE black guy he worked alongside over the course of a 45 year career in officiating football, as if he pardons damn near half a century of perceived prejudice, doesn't exactly paint a multi-colored picture of progressiveness. Mike Atkinson running the ringer in blaming everyone from the person he was on the phone with to his allegedly African American-influenced choice in television for serving as inspirations for "jokes" that read a hell of a lot like dehumanizing insults probably tells you more about what type of person he is than what he calls BET. That said, speaking as someone who grew up watching BET, what he calls BET is more likely have been heard while binging Fox News than uttered by someone who has watched even 5 minutes of BET.
I'll tell ya what. If your favorite team absolutely has to move on from an absolute infant of an All-World wide receiver due to him demanding a trade and immediately tanking his value in said trade by acting like an outlandish asshole, it's at least nice to have a replacement that serves as his amicable antithesis already on the roster. In terms of production, I don't know how well JuJu Smith-Schuster will fill the large and incessantly stomped shoes of his predecessor as the Pittsburgh Steelers' go-to pass catcher, but I do know that - if for absolutely no other reason - their fans will always appreciate him for not being Antonio Brown. Whether that be in attitude, personality, or both, the only way that JuJu could possibly be seen as more selfless amongst a fanbase with which he's proven generous with his time was to be compared to one of the biggest sociopaths currently in sports. AB will undoubtedly try to spin this into a continuation of their beef, as if anyone can quiet hyped-up high school kids, and treat it as some slight against the character of his former teammate, as he is one to nonsensically do. However, the truth is that all JuJu had to do was dance like no one was watching to remind those attending a Pittsburgh prom of how much they hate the social media whore who stopped at no amount of lunacy in crazying his way out of town. With Ben Roethlisberger still being the world's biggest brat and Mike Tomlin still having about as much control over his room as a substitute teacher, JuJu Smith-Schuster is a fittingly fan-friendly figure for the Steelers' faithful to rally around. Especially as they try to get over a player-turned-pariah who was the polar opposite whenever he didn't have the football in his hands.
Tough break for Green Bay. I mean, to go from a head coach that wouldn't stand up to Aaron Rodgers to one that quite literally cannot? If there were a team in desperate need of someone who could demand respect from the entirety of the locker room then it was the Packers, and tearing your achilles during a glorified foul shooting competition, no matter how testy the rebound chasing got, doesn't quite make for an intimidating first impression. Speaking mostly in jest, no one loves a good power struggle more than Aaron Rodgers, and it's tough to go toe-to-toe in a tug-of-war with the most irritable arm in the NFL when you don't even have full use of half your toes. Hopefully whatever Matt LaFleur has drawn up in that playbook of his is more impressive than what he put on tape with the Titans last season, for if the plan of attack comes limping out the gate as badly as the person who designed it then it won't be long before Aaron Rodgers is back to undermining it by teaching in-huddle improv classes. As someone who was complicit in figuratively crippling his last head coach, the last thing #12 needed was his next head coach literally crippling himself. Never mind doing so in a way that calls into question just how young and energetic he is as a physically feeble branch on the Sean McVay coaching tree. Simply put, I think I'm a little less than half serious in saying that those play-calls better jump off the projector and command the attention of the starting quarterback. Otherwise, the man using his crutches to point out the nuances in them might have a hard time proving himself persuasive to someone who fancies himself the smartest and most powerful guy in every room.
I understand that everyone's first instinct is to mock DK Metcalf for needing to look as though the overwhelming urgency to urinate had taken over the lower half of his body in order to do something as simple as stop. After all, it is quite humorous that he basically re-defined inefficiency by taking a baker's dozen steps en route to...well...next to nowhere. That being said, there is something all-too-relatable about being so incredibly good at one thing at the expense of looking downright disastrous at another that I can't help but appreciate. Like, as fun as it is to join in on a nice long laugh at the fatal flaws of otherwise freakish athletes, literally the only thing that makes DK Metcalf a mildly comprehendible specimen is that his (in)ability to stop is less aesthetically pleasing than that of Luis Mendoza... Don't get me wrong, I'm all for beating that same punchline to death over the course of his career, but it's worth noting that maybe there's a reason that he's the first NFL wide receiver that looks like a Greek god who could dominate a 'World's Strongest Man' competition on his off day...
Perhaps the laws of physics require that those with the build of a centaur that are able to gallop like the most thorough-of-bred have the same lack of lateral quickness that is responsible for racetracks being rounded off. That inherent inability to move anywhere other than forward with any speed whatsoever makes a lot more sense when you think of it that way. I mean, I get it. The risk of being rewarded with the disproportional praise of those salivating over 40 times is that they'll turn on you far quicker than the Seahawks' newest deep threat can turn on the ball once they sense a weakness. Therefore, this twitter taunting wasn't entirely unexpected. What it was, however, was as unfair as it was hilarious, since DK Metcalf is nowhere near human enough to be judged as such when he does more tip-toeing than a teenager who missed curfew every time he changes direction with the elegance of an alligator.
Honestly, fair is fair. You'd have to have banged your head on that self-important shield one too many times to still be under the illusion that the NFL only drug tests randomly and, as far as non-random drug tests are concerned, Thomas Morstead has earned more than his fair share as an All-Pro fitness freak with a diabolical amount of dad strength. Personally, I was already half surprised they didn't make him piss in a cup before leaving the field after every absurdly powerful pinpoint punt...
So, if anything, he's really been running up the score on the league's eternally suspicious urine collectors by publicizing extreme feats of athleticism, that are entirely unfitting of his position, on the internet. Even as a Saints' fan that should be used to them by now, I still have a hard time comprehending just how lethal and finely tuned Thomas Morstead's weapons are as a workout warrior. Therefore, I'm not exactly at liberty to question the NFL for being in disbelief that his 33-year-old body is only the product of a collaboration with a more socially acceptable brand of juicers. The guy is simply in pristine shape as both a punter and a person, and with the ability to casually crush high-level calisthenics like they are a basic crunch comes the requests to prove your ass hasn't been needled more than that of a stay-at-home father.
The Boldest of Browns' Rookies Lied His Way Into the Tryout That Earned Him His Training Camp Invite5/29/2019 'Cleveland- Back in late March, Sheehy-Guiseppi was in need of a future.
He had been a junior college All-American kick returner for Phoenix College (not to be confused with the University of Phoenix online school). But when his 2016 season didn’t earn him a scholarship at Phoenix, he went in search of bigger opportunities. Armed with a credit card and determination (and his game film), Sheehy-Guiseppi went on a tour of Division I universities in early 2017, hoping for a chance to show what he could do. The trip to SEC and Big 12 schools wasn’t very fruitful. Only one school watched his tape. But he did get plenty of bad news. He learned that he had just one year of eligibility remaining (he had attended another juco prior to Phoenix). Also, he was nine credits short of being able to transfer. And now he didn’t have enough money to return to school. So Sheehy-Guiseppi hatched a plan to go pro. “I’m going to go to Florida and start with the Tampa Bay Bucs and I’m going to go to every facility I can, go all the way across the country and see if I can just walk in there and give it a shot,” he said. Sheehy-Guiseppi remained based in Arizona and trained for more than a year, looking for tryout opportunities while networking. He drove to Las Vegas for a CFL tryout, paid his $100 to participate, ran a 40, did his workout, and then, nothing. After the tryout he learned that the odds of a player being signed from the event were slim to none. An Arena Football League tryout for multiple teams in Atlanta didn’t work out, either. Then, earlier this year, a connection made through a flag football league in Arizona paid off. A friend of a friend knew of an NFL workout in Miami. Sheehy-Guiseppi got the address and headed to Florida. One problem, though. He wasn’t invited. The flag football connection was reluctant to give out the address of the workout at first. But Sheehy-Guiseppi was desperate. He didn’t care if it was an invite-only event. This was an opportunity, and he’d make it work. When he finally got the address, he also got some advice: look for Alonzo Highsmith at the workout. Who? Sheehy-Guiseppi typed the name into Google and found out he was the Browns’ vice president of player personnel. Good to know. He also made note of what Highsmith looked like. Sheehy-Guiseppi made it to Miami and headed to the workout, where he was met with confusion. But he was prepared for that. “Who are you?” “I’m Damon Sheehy-Guiseppi. I’m here for the tryout.” “Do you know Alonzo?” “Yeah, I know Alonzo.” The confidence paid off. Sheehy-Guiseppi had his foot in the door. To make sure his story didn’t fall apart, as soon as he saw Highsmith, he ran to him and introduced himself. “I just knew I had to make it look like we were friends,” Sheehy-Guiseppi said. “Alonzo was real nice to me.” The workout began and Sheehy-Guiseppi stood out. He caught punts, he caught passes, and, best of all, his 40 time was 4.38. Only five wide receivers at the 2019 NFL combine ran faster than that. Speed. It got Highsmith’s attention. About 30 minutes after the workout ended, Sheehy-Guiseppi’s phone rang. It was Highsmith, with an offer to visit Berea for an official tryout. That was great news, but the tryout was a week away and he didn't have money to fly back home. He also didn't have money to rent a room for the entire week. So Sheehy-Guiseppi improvised, sleeping outside, sleeping at a 24-hour fitness center, and then outside a training facility he was using to prepare for his workout. Train. Sleep. Eat very little. That was the schedule leading up to the biggest day of his life. “Then we got a chance to see him for ourselves and you could see all of the explosive movement stuff that Alonzo was talking about,” said GM John Dorsey. “Then when you watch him field kicks and punts, you are going, ‘OK, he can do this kind of stuff.’ “Now, he has not played in a couple of years, but it will not be because of lack of determination because this is a very determined young man.” Sheehy-Guiseppi became a member of the Browns on April 5. ------- While it's still quite far from having the type of happy ending that it's main protagonist has stopped at absolutely nothing in desperate search of, you can't deny the awesomeness of this story. Without a true (or even false, for that matter) minor league system, there are plenty of talented and worthwhile players that manage to slip through football's cracks due to no shortage of unfortunate circumstances. As a JUCO dropout that, to his lack of credits, couldn't find any other takers at the college level, Damon Sheehy-Guiseppi might as well have been lubed up head-to-toe while trying to clear the gap in his athletic resume in leaping to the National Football League. For him to even find a way to earn himself a training camp to prove himself is a minor miracle disguised as a lesson to never let anything get in the way of your dreams. Therefore, I think we can look past the deceitful means necessary to achieve it in celebrating an accomplishment that is entirely unprecedented outside of fictional sports' cinema (i.e. Major League, as referenced in the article). That being said, the fact that the Cleveland Browns happen to be the organization that had the wool pulled over their eyes by an irrationally confident nomad of a nobody wide receiver is a comforting reminder that they have yet to completely shed the lovable losers label. They are definitely heading in the right direction with what looks to be a favorable future under center and a superstar split out wide. However, waving through some dude who was last seen paying $100 to run around a field as a fundraiser for a CFL team to stand amongst the same position group as Odell Beckham Jr. is a sign that the addition of Odell Beckham Jr. hasn't exactly erased decades of dysfunction. They are going to have to prove positive their long overdue organizational pivot on the field, and I would imagine a good place to start is by doing a halfway decent job making sure people off the street can't just lie their way onto it. Even if this particularly persistent kid overcame absurd odds in proving he had every reason to be so cocksure in refusing to look back and running freakishly fast with quite the feel-good narrative once he did.
-------- I'm not going to fault any one party for a piece of news that initially reads as shocking due to the consummate professionalism of the un-retired player, who treated his body as a temple, in question. The NFL has pretty clearly outlined what drugs they've deemed suspendible, and Ben Watson should have felt more than comfortable ingesting them in the wake of his absurdly long career in organized brutality that he deemed to be over. If anything, his upcoming four game suspension is just a byproduct of unfortunate circumstances while also being a bit of a blessing in disguise to a 38-year old who was almost certainly inspired to put the pads back on by having his "final" season brought to an early end with him stuck on the sidelines. That being said, it's pretty telling of how stupidly strict the league's banned substance policy is that Ben Watson's first unrestricted doctor's visit in a decade and a half had him prescribed something illegal in the eyes of his former employer. Of course, I imagine it's almost impossible to draw the line between using and abusing something as helpful in the recovery process as Bio Identical Testosterone Cypionate. Still, the juxtaposition of profiting greatly off battered bodies and bruised brains while nitpicking what medicinal methods are allowable, so much so that it's one of the few remaining professions in which weed is still a bad word, of players risking their short-term and long-term health on non-guaranteed contracts is an unsettling one. I don't know that there's a right answer, as having bigger, stronger, and faster athletic freaks hitting each other head-on even harder isn't the answer, but surely the pharmaceutical community could find a happier medium than what certainly seems to be the wrong one. That is, if the NFL even cared enough about their players to listen to anyone other than their nonsensically stubborn selves. PFT- Jordan has two years left on his five-year, $55 million extension, but the guys performing at his level are making about double that on average. And with a pair of All-Pro honors in the last two years, Jordan’s poised to eventually get a raise,
“All that can take care of itself. Honestly, I just want to be a Saints lifer. I want to go after this record by Rickey [Jackson],” Jordan said, via Mike Triplett of ESPN.com. “I would love to say, ‘Hey, I want a megadeal.’ I don’t really. I just want to be secure in my job. Now to be sure, do I need to be updated? No doubt. But do I want to be like, ‘Hey, I want to break Aaron Donald bank or go after Khalil Mack money even though I have better than Khalil Mack numbers in most categories?’ No. For me it’s all about just being around my team, making sure that my family and my team is gonna be my family and my team for as long as I can play. “When it comes down to it, I feel like to miss out on training camp two years out is just no point. I feel like the Saints and I have a phenomenal repertoire, so why would I want to damage that? For me it’s not even about money; it’s about solidifying a legacy. It’s about pushing and furthering what I’m doing. And I love our team to the fact that I want to continue doing what we’ve been doing. We’ve gone through some 7-9 seasons, but we’ve gone through some great times as well.” ------- I hesitate to heap too much praise on NFL stars that honor the entirety of their contracts or take a discount in extending them. After all, I'm totally cool with football players going just about every route short of the Psycho St. that Antonio Brown took in milking an exceedingly short career path, that could literally kill you, for all that it's worth. That said, from the selfish point of view of a Saints' fan, it's refreshing to hear such an unselfish perspective from an eternally underrated player whose controlled cockiness can be seen throughout every corner of the organization. With Mark Ingram in Baltimore, Cam Jordan isn't just a team leader but also the pacesetter for the Saints' collective personality. The culture that's been built in New Orleans is basically a reflection of a well-respected veteran like himself. Therefore, for him to refuse to put up any sort of stink regarding the return on his on-field investment, despite being egregiously underpaid almost every single season he's been a Saint, only bodes well for the example he can continue to set in the locker room. Now, do I think that Cameron Jordan having motivations other than money is going to stop someone like Michael Thomas from seeing dollar signs (or incessantly posting about them on social media) in his highly spirited effort to secure a bank-breaking bag? Absolutely not, nor should it. I do, however, think that it can only make lower the chances that even his most financially fueled teammates will make things messy when it comes to making sure they get their money. Mark Ingram's depressing departure was a harsh reminder that the NFL is and will always be a cutthroat business, but having an insanely talented and accomplished player who is as much a "brand loyalist" as he is a businessman can only help set a more selfless standard during the season. Cam Jordan has, ::knock on wood::, been mystifyingly healthy throughout his illustrious career, so it's not out of the question that a brush with NFL mortality puts money more on his mind. For now, him having a well-deserved payday prioritized behind only leaving New Orleans as a "Saints lifer" is the exactly the type of mindset you'd want out of someone who leads as much through on-field example as he does off-field emotion.
When you take into account that Ted Ginn Jr. is 34 years old, it becomes pretty bold of him to offer a challenge that upwards of 100 of his much younger peers would probably feel pretty confident in accepting. That being said, of those 100 peers, I'm not sure there's too many you'd trust more than a guy that's survived 12 seasons almost solely on speed. The Saints' offensive struggles with Ted Ginn Jr. out of the lineup last season, despite the arm of Drew Brees also having a relatable inability to keep up with his legs, speak to him being something more than a one trick thoroughbred. Still, as a deep threat with suspect hands he's probably the closest thing that the NFL has to one. The guy has been sprinting past his potential replacements for years now and he hasn't exactly been doing so with a dearth of deception, so I don't see why anyone would feel particularly good about betting their finances against his forte. I'm sure there are a few people faster, but I can't imagine that it's more than a handful that should feel five figures worth of self-assurance in their ability to go light pole to light pole quicker than someone who has almost strictly been going for broke against the most finely tuned physical specimens on the planet for well over a decade.
I don't think it was too long after the New York Giants scoffed at every single draft board within a 1,000 mile radius to draft an especially non-special passer whose personality was both proudly and profoundly a lack thereof before we all realized their enduring obsession with having Eli Manning under center had resulted in them ending their stubborn search for a successor by seeking out his kindred spirit. The similarities were just far too striking for those on the outside looking in not to notice that a franchise who moved heaven, earth, and Odell Beckham Jr. just to offer more job security to an aging, below average QB only brought in some competition when it possessed the closest possibly thing to a familiarly flabbergasted face. For that reason, I find the above picture more hilarious than I do shocking. That said, I do wonder what type of reaction David Gettleman and the gang had when they stumbled across it. Like, did it provide them a sense of comfort in knowing that change was no longer imminent in regards to the organization's absence of emotional expression under center, or was it something closer to Rachel having the haunting realization that the only real difference between Ross and Russ was a single letter? In outlasting the tenures of multiple GM's and head coaches, New York's flat out refusal to completely cut the cord and move on from Eli Manning has basically gone from bizarre to bizarro world, so it would be interesting to find out whether taking it to the extent of finding his unofficial clone was a voluntarily one. You'd think it would be with how continually confused the two otherwise nondescript white men look, but love makes you overlook the obvious to the point of lunacy and there's nothing the Giants love more than the most mystifying two-time Super Bowl MVP in NFL history. Joke or Not, Sharing a City With Zion Williamson Already Has Sean Payton's Brain in Overdrive5/15/2019
Credit to Sean Payton for doing his side job as an unofficial ambassador for a tightly knit sports' city in finding a lighthearted way to prematurely welcome a larger than life entity who is set to become NOLA's next big thing as his eventual neighbor. A clever co-sign from the Saints' beloved coach certainly won't add to Zion Williamson's alleged skepticism regarding the instantly reinvigorated regional interest in a Pelicans' team with which they share ownership. That said, while that tweet was clearly in jest, you are beside your mind if you don't think Zion Williamson could be schemed into a Pro Bowl using only the play designs that Sean Payton will involuntarily dream up after posting that photoshop. In every good joke there is a hint of truth, and the truth is that football's most beautiful mind had a hell of a lot more than one thought running around it in when he found out he'd be sharing city limits with an entirely unprecedented athletic specimen that could crunch the mold of every competitor that's come before him in between his thumb and his forefinger. For a pioneer of a play caller whose fancy appears to be tickled to near orgasmic levels every time Taysom Hill adds yet another stat to his line, you can bet your ass that being within a stone's throw of the lovechild of LeBron James and 'The Incredible Hulk' has him fluffed up off his own fan fiction. What you can't have is always what you want the most. Therefore, you can undoubtedly consider Zion Williamson to be the white whale that has Sean Payton overwhelmed like a toddler in a toy store and salivating over the X's and O's of sketches that are nothing short of sci-fi while laughing maniacally over a growing fascination with what type of godforsaken things he could be capable of on the gridiron in an alternate universe.
Perfect. Just perfect. Add a little Chef's kiss to that forcibly fake ass smile, because the fact that the only team still pleading for an Antonio Brown appearance in the city of Pittsburgh is his defense team tells you a whole hell of a lot about his exit. The lack of self awareness required to laugh throughout that entirely unnecessary Instagram clip as if the joke he thought he was making wasn't entirely on him is just all too fitting of a guy who is currently operating in his own universe. There's not one Steelers' fan that is trying to bid adieu to AB, but if there were then said fan wouldn't even have needed that heads-up to find him, as the courthouse would have been the third place checked after his IP address and the front of the largest mirror within city limits. Let his constantly contradictory social media accounts and his list of legal charges serve as proof that Antonio Brown is, without question, an insufferable douchebag. Therefore, you'd think he would try to dispute that unfortunate truth by living his best life somewhere other than on the stand when trying to make it seem as though he pulled one over on the city of Pittsburgh. That is, if you also still think he's at all capable of thinking for some ungodly reason.
SI- Another story that spread far across the AAF offices has Marshawn Lynch crashing the league’s quarterback draft last November at the Luxor casino in Las Vegas. According to one employee, Lynch, whose cousin Josh Johnson was the first pick in that draft, and who is notoriously media-averse, agreed to do a two-minute interview for the Alliance at that event in exchange for $5,000. But when a check was presented to Lynch, he asked that his money be delivered instead in quarters—which AAF co-founder Charlie Ebersol took seriously. In the end, 20,000 quarters were delivered to Lynch’s room and the interview apparently took place.
--------- I mean, that should have been it, right? Certainly feels as though the AAF could have saved themselves some embarrassment and a whole hell of a lot of inevitably unsettled lawsuits if they just ceased operations before they truly started when they got bitch slapped with such an unmistakable sign. Granted, it's silly to expect those that somehow still thought we lived in a world in which the NFL would even allow an alternative football league to flourish aren't exactly great at taking a hint. Still, having to pay a laughably literal $5,000 toll for a couple minutes of a professional athlete's time should have made it quite clear that there wasn't enough money in the world to make people care about minor league football. That professional athlete being Marshawn Lynch makes this story exponentially more hilarious, as you could probably base an entire episode of 'Where Are They Now?' on the life and times of those coins. Such a preposterously disrespectful ask could only be the brainchild of a mind that's birthed no shortage of comedic brilliance, so a special thanks must go to Beast Mode for making a seemingly satirical report of such a ridiculous request possible. That being said, the fact that a league that wanted to be seen as professional felt enough pressure to fulfill it should have spoken immutable volumes about how impossible it is to be seen as enough competition to force an absolute behemoth of a self-sustaining business model into a coalition. The AAF was bound to become a punchline at some point, but it's pretty crazy they couldn't tell how quickly they were headed to the ass end of the joke when they felt it worthwhile to haul 20,000 quarters out of a bank and through a hotel lobby in exchange for a few words, that were just as likely to be repeated on a loop, from a legendarily enigmatic athlete.
I guess the nicest thing I could possibly say about this is that I have certainly seem dumber. I'm not sure a rationalization that relies entirely on relativity is going to appease an old school ball coach like Bruce Arians. He might have a little steam collecting under his Kangol when he gets wind of his starting quarterback, who has routinely shown he's already something significantly less than smart, having a blunt club swung full-force in the general direction of his head for no other reason than to garner some fake love on the internet. Still, when I initially read that Jameis Winston had a golfball driven off his skull I wasn't expecting nearly as many precautions to be taken. Between the helmet, the extended tee, and the person he entrusted with preserving whatever brain cells he does have left being an actual "pro", that might be the safest sequence he's ever played a part in executing in a pair of cleats. Again, it's not a stunt I would feel inclined to partake in if I were a highly-paid professional athlete whose reputation was already that of a jackass due to a level of decision making, both on and off the field, that had my future in question and quite a few Bucs' fans strongly considering birth control. But hey, at least it's one that pales in comparison to all of his other crazy and/or criminal antics he's gotten himself into throughout the course his illustriously idiotic career. |
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