It’s Week 6 and you know what that means–the Patriots are heading out to Indy to take on the Sore Losers Colts at Lucas Oil Stadium in Sunday Night Football.
But before I begin to describe just how much I cannot wait for this game to go down, let me address the elephant–yes I’ve been gone the whole playoffs, Patriots Superbowl victory, offseason, and weeks 1-5 of the new season. No blog posts since January 3rd, I get it.
All I have to say for myself is that I, well, had a baby, but in addition to that I, like every other New England resident, fan or not, was treated to a months-long, merciless, unending pounding of all manner of garbage and blah-blah-blah about some deflated footballs, and I just…couldn’t. I had nothing to say that wasn’t already being said, and had no real desire to needlessly add to the pile.
Well, here we are in October, and the “-gate” that shall not be named is over (except not really), yet still crops back up with annoying frequency. Take this latest piece of drivel, for example:
Is this real life?
No, seriously. Is it? Dear Colts fans, I fucking dare you. Go ahead and fly your little blimp. That’s right, keep poking the bear. Tom Brady was already preparing to ruin your team this weekend, but now his agenda will also include ruining each and every one of you and everyone and everything you hold dear. Hide yo kids, hide yo wife.
Of course, this is assuming that the Colts can/will actually play with their shitty broken roof open so that your fun little gag can actually go over. Good luck with that one.
I kind of hope that the Pats re-sign Jonas Gray for one week, or, better yet, bring in Trent Richardson for just this game, send him into the endzone 5 or 6 times, then release him on Monday.
Really, though, I don’t care how they do it. I just want to watch them run up the score with no regard whatsoever for good manners or sportsmanship. I want it to be so silent in that stadium that even the piped-in crowd noise can’t disguise how much dejection and life choice questioning is going on in the stands. And when the 60 minutes are up, I want to hear the sweet sound of Brady and Belichick creating a cacophany of evil villain laughter that will echo and rebound endlessly off of that stupid closed roof.
Bring it, Week 6.
Pats the Bunny 