Now this, this is funny. I suppose you could consider my laughter proof of a double standard, since I found it exponentially less hilarious when the quarterback who was being pushed to try out at a position he's never played before was an obvious example of a damn near prehistoric racial generalization still being shamelessly stuck to despite us having plenty of empirical evidence that it's bullshit. Fact is, there is something both inherently different (i.e harmless) and purely comedic about the kid whose body might as well be the mannequin on which we dress up prototypical passers being asked to run routes because one organization found his tape to show that odds are he had to be better at something than he is the position that ultimately got him (over) drafted at 6th overall. What's different is that Lamar Jackson had an illustriously accomplished college football career that saw him collect a Heisman Trophy, whereas Daniel Jones could have easily been confused for a role player on the Duke lacrosse player as little as two weeks ago. What's comedic is that this ridiculous suggestion, as is so often opposite of the case, was the product an NFL team breaking free from the imprisonment of the tall and nondescript looking white dude stereotype and seeing absolutely nothing more than a developmental tight end in watching the tape of the second quarterback off the board. Whether or not they were remotely close to being accurate in doing so is a question for years down the line, but it even being asked shows Dave Gettleman's unprecedented potential as a punchline.
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You know, I can't help but think Matt Nagy saw that exercise playing out a little more...um...accurately when he drew it up. I get why he made a call back to the traumatizing end to his team's season, being that he was testing the focus and fortitude of those attempting to replace the guy who, with the help of a lightly grazed fingertip, somewhat sabotaged it. However, in retrospect, perhaps he would have sent a similar enough message by having them kick 42 or 44 yard field goals had he known he'd be giving a relatively unchanged roster frightening flashbacks six (out of eight) times over. I don't know. I very well could have a misunderstanding of the mood during NFL mini-camps, but I think you'd want to do everything possible to introduce your rookies into a slightly more favorable environment than one of doom-and-gloom in which the sky is falling. Just seems like the wrong...::cringe::...foot to get off on. Of course, in a perfect world, going 8-for-8 would have been a hell of a way to immediately wash themselves clean of the stink they've worn since being double-boinked into despair. Unfortunately, as they learned the hard way, the world of placekicking is about as perfect in it's predictability as a game of Russian Roulette. Speaking of, let's hope that's not Matt Nagy's plan to drain the kicking pool of debris on Day 2, for if there's a group that currently needs not gun nor bullet to shoot themselves in the foot then it's the unlucky legs of the Chicago Bears.
I'll admit, it initially took me by surprise too. At the very least, Eli Apple proved himself a quality starting corner after being granted a change of scenery that is basically the NFL equivalent of going from the inside of a volcano to...well...New Orleans. It stands to reason that the Saints, if given the option, would extend the stay of someone who helped change the fortunes of what was, at points, a pathetic pass defense opposite Marshon Lattimore. What said reason didn't take into account, however, is price...
With that $13.7 million figure in mind, a much more shocking headline would be "Saints opt to give an 11 million dollar raise to a #2 corner who struggles with consistency a year in advance of seeing what he's able to provide during his first full season in the organization". Fact is, New Orleans simply isn't in a position to prematurely commit that much money to a complimentary player. At 23 years old and having penned half a chapter of his redemption story, Eli Apple still falls into the category of "young talent". He just not the youngest or most talented on a roster that's largely in need of a raise. As much as emotionally abused Giants' fans don't want to hear it, that doesn't mean the midseason trade that aided the Saints as much as it aided his confidence was a failure. Hell, it doesn't even necessarily mean his departure is imminent. It just means that his future is a negotiation for another day, as the price to be paid for consecutive seasons of incredible drafting takes priority over hindering their forward flexibility by paying a premium for a non-premier player in a salary capped league.
I try to limit the amount of feel-good stories I write about because they typically do a better job speaking for themselves than I ever could, but - given the NFL's checkered past and present of all types of assaults on the fairer sex - this particular one is too refreshing not to take a second to, no pun intended, sip on. Of course, the football angle aside, it's always nice to hear tales told of people doing the right thing, as it's far often easier said than done, especially by teenagers in a substance-infused social setting. That said, the fact that an incredibly grateful father was hesitant to even tell this overwhelmingly uplifting story due to it featuring a college athlete who was, god forbid, at a party tells you everything you need to know about the disingenuous character dissection that goes into the NFL Draft. If i had to put a number on it, I would say approximately 90% of anecdotal evidence to the personality of prospects that comes to the light when it is at its brightest and most interrogative is overwhelmingly negative. I mean, look no further than the laughable amount of stereotyping that has been done of Josh Rosen and Lamar Jackson over the last 18 months for proof that NFL executives and analysts are like a jealous girlfriend going through a phone that isn't theirs when it comes to finding something incriminating about potential employees. So, I think we should all take a minute to sit back and smile while enjoying a thread of tweets that does something incredibly rare to this season of the NFL schedule of year in reminding us that the intimidating size and strength of future professional football players can actually be used for good off the gridiron. At the request of a forever grateful father, I will actually root for Dre Greenlaw for, on a night that could have altered an innocent life forever, he proved something that the draft process often makes not as obvious as it should be, which is that there are far more good people than bad eggs entering the league on annual basis.
Let me first say that I have nothing bad to say about the Saints' decision to trade up to get the guy they clearly wanted...
That's partially because Millennial Mickey and Shortsighted Sean have been given the middle finger to tomorrow on behalf of today for so many years running that the instant gratification has become a bit of an annual tradition, but it's mostly because they've gotten pretty damn good at it since the arrival of Jeff Ireland. After they left no shortage of heads being scratched by giving up future assets to jump up and select an underutilized playmaker by the name of Alvin Kamara from the University of Tennessee, despite already having a franchise leader and a Hall of Famer at his position, I have now grown to accept that questioning the front office's longstanding loathing of later is a fool's errand. Now, as for the direction they chose to go after pulling an all-too-familiar trigger, it's tough not to feel comfortable in following along. As a petulant prioritizer of prospects that score points, I'd be lying if I said I had my sights set on Erik McCoy when Jahri Evans and Deuce McAllister took the stage early, but that doesn't make his presumed role any less relevant. With Max Unger kicking his feet up in retirement, Andrus Peat looking at one last year in New Orleans, and Nick Easton coming off a neck injury, the Saints' offensive line needed a youthful injection in an uncertain interior. Who better to provide it then someone whose resume in neutralizing some of the best d-linemen college football has to offer in the SEC is pretty close to spotless? Add in a quality combine performance that spoke glowingly of what was already a well-documented ability to get out in space and take advantage of his athleticism, and it's really a wonder that Erik McCoy's name wasn't one that came up more often when discussing the interests of a screen and sweep happy team that values versatility. Another receiver would have been nice, seeing as some high-profile pass catchers were still on the board. However, the best weapon you can offer a quarterback, especially one with the accuracy and active eyesight of Drew Brees, will always be time and it doesn't read like Erik McCoy will need much of it before proving capable of starting at center.
As grateful as Erik McCoy is to have been taken by the Saints, the Saints sound just as grateful that he was there for the taking, which is really I needed to feel comfortable with an unglamorous selection that's being considered a steal by most that matter. Especially given the success that New Orleans has had in throwing caution to the wind after coming to the profound conclusion that you always have a full year before having to worry about next year.
If we're going to talk about the passive aggressive use of social media in sports, I think an act that was much more egregious than Josh Rosen unfollowing the Cardinals was the Cardinals leaving their then starting quarterback entirely un-featured in their season preview/schedule release video no more than a week ago. Now, that's neither here nor there, as the passive aggressive use of social media in sports is not something I want to talk about. That goes ten-fold for its role in an absolutely inevitable breakup between a second year, first round quarterback and the franchise that gave him very little chance to succeed before seeking out his successor. Trust me, I'm not shedding any tears for Josh Rosen, as he showed very few signs of living up to his draft billing, but it would be laughably disingenuous not to acknowledge that he was forced to play a piss-poor hand in unprotectedly running an anemic offense of questionable coaching during his lone NFL season. Add that to the fact that Arizona is selling low in actively shopping him, likely at the insistence of their woefully unqualified head coach, after having followed through on the months they spent shamelessly flirting with his high-profile replacement, and you want me to be upset that Josh Rosen committed the unspeakable crime of...::audible gasp::...unfollowing their Instagram account? Are we talking about a prideful athlete that clicked a button out of understandable frustration, or a malcontent that sat Indian-style with his arms folded and his brow furrowed at mid-field during training camp as a show of protest? If I were answering that question based on the vigor in Steve Smith's preposterously excessive answer then I'd be certain it was the latter, because Josh Rosen has handled this on-going slight against his personality and his largely untapped potential as professionally as you could possibly expect of a young, competitive kid.
I'll start saying this. Though building an impenetrable offensive line is a key to sustained success in the NFL, a guard from a relatively unheralded program like Boston College isn't the type of glamorous first round pick that gets your heart beating faster and increases the blood flow to your sports' penis. It takes the most diehard of fan to appreciate such a selection at that spot and since the Falcons have, give or take, about a half-dozen those, it's not surprising it was met with the type of reaction one might expect to see from people greetings those around them in neighboring church pews. That being said, you would have thought that Atlanta would have learned by now that they are in desperate need of artificial enhancement if a raucous, supportive atmosphere is what they are going for, so I'm a little taken aback by the fact that they didn't pump in some of that crowd noise they got penalized into packing away for the past few years. A moderately attended fan event would have been the perfect time to break out the speakers and the applause track, especially if a relatively unknown road grader was about to be the honoree. Even a handful of claps would have made a difference amongst an otherwise dumbfounded draft party, so why not break out the AUX cord and add the sound effects of excitement and elation?
I can't believe I am going to say this, but I actually feel bad for Giants' fans. That should really tell you everything you need to know about how their draft night started, as the longest running Eli Manning apologists have been insufferable and entitled in a way that only an overly obnoxious New York fanbase could. I am diametrically opposed to offering them any sort of compassion and yet, after doing a hell of a lot go laughing, I'm left with with this uncomfortably unfamiliar gut feeling that even they deserve better. After all, with the 6th pick in the 2019 NFL Draft, the New York Giants selected...even more job security for a 38-year-old quarterback whose ability to keep his starting job had already reached Peter from 'Office Space' levels of stupid...
After finally accepting years of the type of damning evidence necessary to override two Super Bowl MVP's worth of allegiance, Giants' fans were finally ready to go in another direction under center, and Dave Gettleman, in his infinite wisdom, decided that direction should be the same amount of steps backwards that Eli Manning takes before sacking himself. The crowd at MetLife Stadium last night would have welcomed the selection of a quarterback, so think about how badly you'd have to screw up said selection to draw this type of reaction...
Of course, it's not completely outside the realm of possibility that Daniel Jones defies the odds of common fucking sense develops into a quality player that ends up worthy of his draft slot. You might have to dig pretty deep through the dustiest of archives to find record of them, but crazier things have undoubtedly happened. That said, his selection at 6th overall, with Josh Allen and Dwayne Haskins still on the board, a year after passing on demonstrably better QB class for a running back, was - objectively speaking - such a Stretch Armstrong-esque reach that it almost had to be a product of either organizational sabotage or the type of laughably limited scouting you'd expect from a drunk searching for a quality bite after last call...
Even the astronomically more accomplished player who had every right and reason to be enraged after being passed over for a former ZERO star recruit whose football career at Duke was wildly underwhelming couldn't help but muster a laugh. And why not snicker a sigh of relief, as he ultimately dodged one of the bullets that the most dysfunctional of franchise keeps shooting right through their own foot...
Honestly, it's as if each increasingly inexplicable decision that Dave Gettleman makes in guaranteeing that Eli dies the Giants' starter is an attempt to make the previous one seem not as mind-numbingly stupid by comparison. Unfortunately, I'm not sure where he goes from here, because he just might have pulled the fateful Jenga piece in building an entirely unstable roster that's doomed for destruction.
I hate to say this, because it kind of feels like a sign that I have become desensitized to how dumb the NFL is run, but I kind of get it. I don't agree with it, as it's certainly not something I can envision myself worrying about if I happened to be in charge of a bajillion dollar brand. However, the fact that I don't think said bajillion dollar brand is all that should ever matter is, amongst a laughable lack of qualifications, what takes me out of the running for said job. The NFL is basically the organizational equivalent of the type of sociopath that just looooves to hear themselves talk and thinks everything that's coming out of their mouth, and only their mouth, is of the upmost importance. Therefore, them going out go their way to remove a harmlessly unauthorized banner that, realistically, was as much a college recruitment tactic as it was a show of support for Josh Allen isn't all that surprising. Anyone even mildly trying to benefit off their annual event in any way, shape, or form was bound to be met with pushback, and - as great a story as he may be - Kentucky football didn't only finance a 50-foot likeness of their most famed football player in a relatively local region out of the goodness of their heart. Personally, I don't think the intent matters, so long as it would have been appreciated by the person whose biceps were bulging off the side of a building. Unfortunately, as someone who has long come to grips with how greedy, self-absorbed, and narcissistic the NFL can be, I can comprehend why that appreciation wasn't shared by an absolute attention whore of an institution that wants your former players but not at the price of giving you any publicity.
----------- Look, I get it. It's an easy (also see: lazy) comparison to make. For the foreseeable future, any time a sports' team feels as though they were jobbed by incompetent officiating in a way that even slightly affected the outcome of an important game they are going to invoke the eternally and unforgettably stained postseason of the 2018 New Orleans Saints. Mix in the fact that this too will probably result in a change to replay rules, and I can certainly see some similarities. However, while I understand that Jonathan Marchessault was speaking purely out of frustration in the wake of his team's season being brought to an untimely end that was nothing short of shocking, what we aren't going to do is ignore the much more numerous differences in the two scenarios. For instance, the Saints may have blown some opportunities to (re-)win a close game that was put up for grabs as soon as they were denied a blatantly deserved opportunity to casually kick their way into the Super Bowl with mere seconds left. What they definitely didn't do is make a mockery of math with an embarrassing attempt to protect a huge lead with half a period remaining...
Never mind the fact that one crappy call, no matter how impactful, statistically matters less in a seven-game series (that, need I remind you, Vegas led 3-1) than it does a one-game winner-take-all, because the truth of the matter is that the Golden Knights are deflecting a laughable amount of blame by drawing such a false equivalence. I honestly don't even what the NFL equivalent of giving up four goals in four minutes of 5-on-4 would be, but it certainly wouldn't be losing in OT after allowing one of the best offenses in the league to two-minute drill a long, game-tying field goal at the end of regulation. Point being, the only reason anyone in the Golden Knights' locker room thinks they've truly felt the pain of the Saints is because feeling a worse pain is unimaginable to them right now. Unimaginable, however, is not synonymous with impossible, as New Orleans had what little doubt they left in the outcome multiplied exponentially by the human error of officiating. Vegas, on the other hand, still had little doubt left in the outcome regardless of the officiating until they, themselves multiplied it's effect exponentially with their own human error. There are plenty of people that still stand firm that the Saints choked, and if that's even 10% true then it's a miracle that the Golden Knights could even mutter such an asinine analogy without needing the Heimlich maneuver to remove a historically half-assed and haphazard penalty kill, that is understandably tough to swallow, from their collectively tightened throat. Sean Payton Was Stuntin' All Over the Golf Course in Some Fresh J's, Compliments of Michael Thomas4/23/2019
The day in which Michael Thomas deafeningly demands to be paid tippy top dollar, through both his unrelenting play and his even less relenting Instagram account, is slowly but surely approaching. When that day comes I'm not so sure he'll be so quick to be sharing his sponsored sneaker collection with a head coach who has never financially advised breaking the bank on high-end offensive weapons. Until that day comes, however, I plan on enjoying the hell out of the fact that the New Orleans Saints have a 26-year old playmaker and a 55-year old play-caller that share a close enough relationship off the field for the former to be helping the latter flex all over the front 9 in some fresh J's. Little things like a star receiver graciously gifting an authority figure three decades his senior an opportunity to get his fit off don't just speak to Sean Payton being far more relatable to his players than your average NFL coach. They also speak directly to the cohesiveness of the culture we've seen created throughout the entirety of the Saints' organization over the last two seasons. Of course, monetary disagreements can sabotage even the most mutually beneficial of marriages, especially when both participants happen to be so preposterously prideful. Still, if only for the time being, having the ability to refer to the kinship of two people who, on the surface, have nothing other than a near psychotic level of competitiveness (and apparently a cleanness in kicks) in common is pretty damn rare and pretty goddamn cool.
I don't know that Ben Watson announcing his intent to return to an NFL field signals an inevitable return to New Orleans. I would love that to be the case, as it would lessen the blow the Saints have had dealt to their leadership group with the departure of Mark Ingram and the retirement of Max Unger, as well as give them proven depth at a position whose depletion hurt them when it mattered most last season. However, with the addition of Jared Cook, the extension of Josh Hill, the curious case of Dan Arnold, and the presumed interest in adding some youth at tight end in the draft, I hardly think his role has been left wide-open for the re-taking. I'd hope to see him back in black & gold since the 38-year old's contributions go far beyond his numbers, but at the end of the day there's only so many roster spots available. That being said, I'm just glad Ben Watson has apparently decided to search for one somewhere. For as great a person and productive a player as he's been while putting together a resume whose length defies logic, being helplessly sidelined only to get a closer look at having his Super Bowl sendoff get stolen from him by the world's most flagrantly un-thrown flag is no way to call it quits. No team's season should end that way, never mind the career of one of the most universally respected veterans in all of sports. Therefore, if only to pen a final chapter that isn't eternally demoralizing, I'm relieved that Ben Watson has decided to open back up the book to his football life in reconsidering retirement. Hopefully that chapter provides a storybook ending with him hoisting the Lombardi Trophy alongside Drew Brees, but the truth is that any conclusion would be exponentially better than the heart-wrenching and mind-numbing one it was left with prior.
— Teddy Bridgewater (@teddyb_h2o) April 17, 2019 — Teddy Bridgewater (@teddyb_h2o) April 17, 2019
Considering the hesitancy I will always have towards believing that Drew Brees will retire until he actually does, I haven't the slightest clue what Teddy's Bridgewater's future holds on the football field. Even if things shake out as conveniently as some Saints' fans think/hope they will, there would still be a ton of questions as to whether he would make for a viable successor under center. What won't be up for debate, however, is whether Teddy Bridgewater possesses the selflessness and humility that have made the person atop him on the depth chart into a damn ambassador for the city he's helped to inspire and uplift. Now, due to the most dire, disastrous, and devastating of circumstances, Drew Brees' impact on New Orleans (and vice-versa) is entirely unprecedented throughout sports' history so no one will never be able to fill those shoes. That, however, doesn't make it any less cool that Teddy Bridgewater is apparently pretty quick to give a whole shitload of smaller pairs away to the kids in his hometown as yet another consummate good guy in a quarterback room whose embarrassment of riches is being spent generously. Dude looks to be a leader, and I would say that could imply that the Saints' offense is in good hands going forward if that were anywhere near as important as Mr. U-Haul keeping those hands out in giving back to the community that helped raise him by any monetary means necessary.
Welp, you can't say the kid doesn't have a point. I'm quite certain it's not the point he tried to make in living up to his billing as an absolute bull of a game-breaker, but a point nonetheless. With a 'Rookie of the Year' award under his belt, there is now nothing more Saquon Barkley can do to prove that he was the right selection at #2 overall for a team that oddly still isn't as desperate for a QB as they should be. In breaking a ton of long touchdown runs and catches while flashing the freakish combination of size, speed, and agility that had him accurately considered the most talented player in the entire class, he added more to the offense than could have possibly been asked of him...for a Giants' team that won all of five games. Now, in the same vein that Saquon Barkley did all he could, he also said the only thing he could in doing his best to defend his draft status. It's not like anyone would ever expect a potentially generational running back to downplay the impact and importance of the position he's dedicated his life to mastering. That said, all the well-deserved accolades in the world wouldn't change the fact that nothing has changed. The New York Giants are still crappy, incompetently managed franchise whose face is aging the exact opposite of gracefully. It's just now they are a crappy, incompetently managed franchise whose face is aging the exact opposite of gracefully, but...oh...look, an exciting toy to continue to waste time beating to shit by way of overuse due to a complete lack of other toys. That's a bit hyperbolic in being a gross mischaracterization of who Saquon Barkley is as a player, but the truth is that you need not do more than five minutes of unwatchable film study to realize it never, ever mattered who Saquon Barkley was as a player. Just sucks he was left to hopelessly attempt to answer to having his role in an NFL offense overvalued when that should always be the job of the idiot who didn't stop at overvaluing it in drawing up a laundry list of inexcusable mistakes. Original:
Second time's a charm:
Normally I'd say we might be reading way too far into the contents of a 90-second social media schedule release by using them as cold, hard evidence to a rumored franchise altering personnel decision of an NFL organization. I honestly wouldn't even have noticed Rosen going entirely unChosen in the first video without having been made aware of it prior to watching, so it's probably a bit premature for the second year, first round pick to start packing his bags based solely on its circulation. That being said, as underwhelming and uneventful as his rookie season may have been, it is near impossible to incidentally put together a highlight package for a professional football team without once featuring the man who holds the hand with which the ball passed through on all offensive plays of note. I mean, even if I wanted to offer the benefit of the doubt, I'd have to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to consider that there were close-up cameos made by EIGHT other NFL quarterbacks, none of which are currently employed atop the Cardinals' depth chart under center. If that's not a sign that, at the very least, the online marketing team has taken their first step to securing a seat on the Kyler Murray bandwagon then I don't know what the hell is. You don't go from getting a glimpse as the future face of the franchise to being a forgotten face in the franchise's glimpse into the future in one year without something being afoot. What's afoot could very well just be the passive aggressive hands of a presumptuous video editor, but me thinks the whispers in Cardinals HQ are about as Josh Rosen-friendly as the "returning" starting quarterback needing to be remixed into a role bigger than that of the team's long snapper. One just can't help but wonder where those whispers originated...
When you're so quick to give it, you got to be able to take it. Seeing as the Falcons have, through their unforgettable failures as a franchise, given the Saints and their much more faithful fanbase no choice but to give it, it was theoretically a matter of time before those same fans had to take it. For that reason, I tip my cap to Atlanta's social media team for putting together that clever animation, despite it being a nod to a play that still rips my heart out on...ahem...replay. Like it or not, and I most certainly do not, it's objectively funny. Now, is it as objectively funny as putting billions of dollars into the building of a mechanical butthole that's perennially half-full and shares a sponsor with the much louder and prouder stadium of your most hated division rival? Good question. Is it as objectively funny as not only having to pipe in artificial crowd noise to your home venue for it to sound like anything remotely close to an NFL atmosphere, but also getting caught doing so? Who's to say? Is it as objectively funny as defying the constraints of time as a construct by blowing a 25-point lead in the second half of the biggest game in your franchise's history while on the brightest stage in sports? It suppose it's all a matter of perspective, but from my perspective the Saints pack far less as a punchline than does the organization that's unsurprisingly much less arrogant and accomplished as an antagonist, especially since having vacated the divisional throne.
Honestly, who has got it better than Ryan Fitzpatrick? Never mind being subjected to a dumpster of a diet that comes part and parcel with having to sneak in ways to satiate yourself while raising an entire touchdown worth of children. The truth is, he might as well wake up and eat some cake regardless of whether or not the calendar says it's a date on which he once successfully reproduced. 36 years old. Starting NFL quarterback. Still living good off an Ivy League education in and on a field where it largely doesn't translate. No real expectations of which to speak. Can show up unkempt and overweight to his job as a pro athlete and have it be a laughing matter. His blessed life might as well be the product of blowing out all the right candles, so who is to say every day isn't his birthday? All his wishes have seemingly some true, like two dozen times over, so it would simply be ungrateful of him not to show his appreciation by bulking up on a bunch of batter and icing for another stress-free gig under center that probably best described as...well...cake.
Incredible. Simply incredible. I mean, how? Just how? I don't even have the words for the work ethic it must require to...::gathers breath::...continue pulling otherwise asinine tasks out of your ass in hopes of making an athletic alien shed a bead of perspiration. Honestly, I'm only being half-sarcastic when I say that the most shocking thing about this video was the creativity of the trainer. That's partially because neither my body nor brain is capable of truly comprehending the difficulty of the exercise at hand. However, it's mostly because Alvin Kamara, whether it be on or off the field, has spent the last two years getting Saints' fans way too used to his ability to make near impossible feats of physicality look entirely effortless. The pegs on those projectiles being red and blue is quite fitting, because that is some Matrix shit...if Neo had both swag and his superpowers weren't a product of pill-popping. Yet still, due mostly to desensitization, I was left responding to that video with nothing more than a shoulder shrug that matched what little anxiety Alvin Kamara appeared to be exuding as his ears, eyes, and hands casually coordinated to put forth an otherworldly display of instantaneous telepathy. I personally didn't need to see this to know that someone who could probably break your balls while balancing himself on a bed of marbles is an absolute freak far beyond this galaxy, never mind a football field. Therefore, I'll treat this clip as a relief knowing his offseason regimen isn't in the idle hands of someone who is going to rest on their laurels and stop going above and beyond the call of duty in the hopeless endeavor to humanize AK's talents. I wish Dr. Reef the best of luck, for he genuinely looks to be working harder than the wonder kid he's allegedly working out.
It's times like this that I am reminded that I didn't go to law school. I'm sure the stupidity of this situation would have been easily explained in detail during the first semester, but I'm at a loss for understanding how already breached contracts handed out by a now defunct business could still, in any form or fashion, be binding. Somehow even more so than that, I'm baffled that a league which was theoretically formed to give fringe players a second chance to extend their playing careers is now treating those players less like human beings than the NFL does their athletes. I'm sure there is a bunch of legal liabilities (::pats self on back for sounding somewhat versed in the subject::) wrapped up in the laughable amount of lawsuits they are about to be drowning in. Still, denying rapidly expiring job opportunities to those whose jobs you just unlawfully terminated is a move that makes Roger Goodell's heart look like it bleeds for the bruised brains his league leaves in its wake. Honestly, solely by comparison, the AAF self-destructing about as quickly as a seagull that's been fed an Alka-Seltzer is basically the best PR the NFL has gotten in ages. So much so that if I didn't know any better, I'd assume the outside competition (that wasn't) was an inside job. The NFL won't fully guarantee you a contract for killing yourself slowly, but at least they aren't at risk of folding only to actively sabotage your next chance at employment. They'll let your earning window close with the quickness, but they won't board up all your doors from within when a comparative opportunity comes a knockin'. The AAF is the ultimate reminder that business ethics could always be worse when the NFL had us presuming that was impossible as little as 2.5 months ago.
NOLA- The speculation about New Orleans Saints coach Sean Payton eventually leaving to coach the Dallas Cowboys seem to be never-ending, but Payton had a funny line when discussing the topic Thursday evening on WWL radio.
“I’ve got fleur-de-lis tattoos that can’t be erased!" Payton said during the interview. “I’m in my 13th year. I don’t know how to answer it,” he said. “I feel like it’s every other year; it’s on the odd number years, so 2019 it comes up and then we’ll hear it in 2021.” With regards to staying in New Orleans, Payton said, “That’s clearly the plan.” -------- Despite being best described as NFL insiders crying wolf, the annual Sean Payton to the Cowboys rumors were never anything more than whispers. Whispers that could be rationalized by circumstance, with the Saints' head coach having a home in Dallas and a relationship with Jerry Jones that predates his tenure in New Orleans, but whispers nonetheless. For that reason, it became increasingly easy for the Who Dat Nation to tune them out as those riding America's bandwagon continue to hopelessly and shamelessly yearn for the day that their organization hires a head coach that can't be walked all over from an owners' suite. Still, if only due to the lack of a defiant dismissal from the one man most likely to open up and offer one, there was a small seed of doubt left untended to in the back of the mind of Saints' fans. Thankfully, Sean Payton finally put all his weight into the heel of his work boot and squashed that seed to smithereens. Speaking to the city of New Orleans and the Saints' organization being woven into the fabric of who he is as a person and a professional is the type of classic quotable that's always ingratiated him to fans and gotten under the skin of his haters (of which are there are many). Granted, it could have went without saying, for as much as he's been eternally influenced by the local culture, he's also pretty clearly put the stamp of his own petty personality on the team that serves as its heartbeat. Still, it was refreshing to learn of him boldly saying so in a way that only he would. Now more so than even the unforgettable honeymoon period, the relationship between Sean Payton, New Orleans, and the Saints is a symbiotic one. Due to the nature of the business, plans change and it'll inevitably come to an end at some point. However, if that point wasn't when the franchise stuck by his side throughout a season-long suspension or during the demoralizing deja vu of 7-9 seasons then it sure as shit isn't anywhere in a near future of which he can prove his brilliance beyond Drew Brees with the young, talented roster he put together. Luckily, you no longer have to take my word for it, as the ink has long dried on tattoos that, be they literal or figurative, speak for themselves. |
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