The 2002 Pats Can Also Kiss My Ass

This is probably fake, but it's fun anyway.



When everyone loves something, I get twitchy.

This usually pops most in movies and television. I've never seen "Titanic", missed "Forest Gump" in the theaters, took a big miss on "Indiana Jones", "Jaws", "E.T.", most of the recent "Star Wars" movies, etc., etc. I've never watched "American Idol" or "Survivor" or "Everybody Loves Raymond" or "CSI", "Law and Order", and all of those other Must See Shows.

If something reaches a certain critical weight of acceptance, I get uncomfortable with the idea of liking it Just Like Everybody Else.

In politics, I'm one of the 10% that always opposed the current President, even when he was riding high after 9/11. I never liked or trusted the guy, always wondered how a guy in a cave could really have pulled it off without help or breathtaking incompetence, and knew that in the long run, we were probably in greater danger from oil companies than we were from suicidal extremists. The oil companies just seemed, you know, more persistent and professional about the whole thing. I always opposed the war in Iraq, and even questioned how effective a war with Afghanistan would be. It seemed like we were escalating criminals to martyrs, creating the next batch with our presence, and turning what could have been a police matter into an excuse for Eternal War, rather then getting the hell off oil so that we could wash our hands of the whole cursed area.

Clearly, I am not a Patriot.

So when Patriot Fan, in his never-ending quest to make everything in the NFL be about His Struggle, pulls out the You Liked Us In 2002 And You Only Hate Us Now Because You're Jealous card...

Um, well, Sadly No.

The 2002 Patriots got to the Super Bowl on a gift, a play that, regardless of the rule book, had never been called that way before, especially not in the final minutes of a playoff game. And if the play had been reversed, and if it were Rich Gannon shaking off the apparent fumble to lead the Raiders to a last-minute win, I'm pretty sure that it would have gone into the NFL history books for what it was -- as an epic screw job. But since the Patriots were a feel-good story and the Oakland Raiders are the closest thing the NFL has to a Designated Heel, no one really seemed to mind.

At the time of Tuckgate, I was living in Northern California, having been out there for a couple of years after a move from Philadelphia. I didn't know that many Raiders fans -- the area is full of transplants, so everyone you meet is originally from somewhere else -- but having moved out of the Philly area before the Iverson/McNabb Resurrection, I hadn't been in an area in Playoff Fever for a while. I was pulling for the Raiders, maybe only about 55-45, but after Tuckgate, it became more like 70-30.

The Pats then continued to pull off wins where they really weren't demonstrably better than their opponent, building a bandwagon of support. Meanwhile, one of the best teams of the era, the St. Louis Rams, a team that you could really enjoy just watching if you only ignored the existence of Brenda Warner and Georgia Frontiere, defeated my Eagles at home in a game where the Eagles played really well. Just like in the Super Bowl loss to the Patriots, the Eagles took away everything but the ground game, McNabb played at a high level, and afterwards, there was a feeling that while my team didn't win, at least I knew they had fallen to greatness.

And then the Super Bowl happened, and the Patriots won and the US invaded and my television was filled with Happy War and the Heroes of 9/11 and Those Oh So Wonderful Patriots Who Refused To Be Introduced As Individuals.

And all of it struck me as complete bullcrap then, and complete bullcrap now.

So no, Pats Fan, everyone didn't love you in 2002. But while we're continuing to talk about you, your favorite and only subject...

Look, here's a dirty little secret about sports fans that only fantasy sports and betting tends to alleviate; if my team doesn't win the championship, on some level, I don't really give a damn who does. I have no back-up team that I root for. I only have individuals that I root against, and if enough of them are on one team, that swells to critical mass level and we've got a whole team to hate.

In my life as a football fan, Pittsburgh, Denver, San Francisco, Dallas, Washington and the Giants have won multiple Super Bowls. The Cowboys employed showboats and druggies. The Giants come with Giants Fan, who's about as much fun to be near as root canal. Denver had John Elway, his never-ending teeth, and their leg-whipping offensive linemen. Washington's fans are likely employed by the government and hate on the three parts of the District that aren't safe and white.

I hated all of those teams, dully, because they were not My Team and they got to experience multiple years of joy, whereas my team always ended the year with a loss. (To be sure, I was always soft on the Niners for beating the Cowboys and just being fun to watch. But I digress.)

Only New England, sweet, precious, can't stop looking in its own navel and insisting that everyone else come look and confirm that it's an innie or an outie New England...

Only New England, with its constant puling that they've been oppressed while being, on any objective level, ridiculously blessed when it comes to Hall of Fame players and stadiums to watch them in...

Only this area, this cauldron of media wanking, this bastion of pants-wetting Lite Brite Phobes and spoiled children... only you, really, have reached This Level Of Ire. (And yes, I know, it's all because the Internet makes the eternal bleatings of New England Fan a click away at any moment. The sports blogosphere has become one huge bad tooth.)

And no, it doesn't stop just because you've spit the bit in this epic and wonderful fashion, and have become the Manning Family Bitch.

The Patriots could lose every game next year, and I wouldn't feel an ounce of sympathy for their fans.

They could have their Hall of Fame coach, cheat and adulterer gunned down in a lover's spat in a bar, and the only thing that would pass through my consciousness is a vague dread of hearing the week's worth of eulogies.

Their baseball team could go 80-plus years without a championship. and that'd be Just Peachy, really.

Their basketball team could have its first round picks die of drug overdoses while shooting each other, and I'd consider that all to be Karmic Payback.

And maybe then, just maybe, New England Fan would... drum roll, please...

SHUT THE HELL UP ABOUT THEIR COLLECTIVE FAN EXPERIENCE.

Because, um, the rest of us

DO NOT CARE, WILL NOT CARE, AND HAVE OUR OWN CRAP TO DEAL WITH, THANK YOU.

Thank you, and good night.

What's A Football Fan To Do?

I've been avoiding the question since the Giants improbable Sunday night win. But when my eight-year-old son finally asked me "Who are you rooting for in the Super Bowl?", I knew I had to confront the issue.

As an Eagles fan, the Giants are my natural enemy. Every instinct I have tells me that I need to root against the Men in Blue.

And like any good football fan, I find the Patriots insufferable. I have zero interest in seeing a team was found to have cheated celebrate a 19-0 season.

So after thinking about this, I realized that there is a perfect solution.

I want the Giants to outplay the Patriots throughout the game, but I want the Pats to win.

By one point.

On a blown call. A horrible, game-deciding blown call. In a game plagued with bad calls that all go the Pats way.

I'm rooting for phantom holding penalties, whistles inadvertantly blown when fumbles are still live, blatant pass interference that goes unchecked, "tuck" calls on apparent Brady fumbles, and a mysterious malfunction in the Giants headsets during the final drive.

I want this SB to go down in history as The Fluke Bowl, the championship that was stolen from the Giants. Nothing would please me more than to see the Perfect Season completely overshadowed by the controversy, and, as an added bonus, NY fans go crazy with righteous fury over losing the Lombardi trophy to a team that they dominated in every way on the field.

I can't tell you how much I want to see this happen. It's really the only possible satisfying outcome.

Epic Drop: Top 10 Ways The Patriots Can Become Even More Hated

Your list is here, and it's a fairly involved thing, complete with YouTube goodness. The clip isn't nearly as funny if you haven't seen the original Britney Fan meltdown, but your mileage may vary. More on this soon.



H/t for the clip to Deadspin.

Epic Drop: To Save The NFL Season, We Need Another Hurricane

Sharp-eyed readers will notice a certain resemblance to an infamous recent editorial by Stu Bykofsky of the Philadelphia Daily News. Having had the, um, pleasure of actually meeting Bykofsky once upon a time, I can tell you that he fulfills all of the pre-conceived notions of what a hacky journo is like... and that while he used to write kvetchy gossip columns for the PDN, he's now clearly moved on to artless agitprop.

Anyway, go read the piece and then come on back. I'm going to try to clear through a bunch of stuff today.

Epic Drop: Top 10 Masshole Excuses for PatriotGate

The list is here, but I'd also like to take a moment to throw something out there for everyone who, like me, keeps reading Bill Simmons under the Can't Stop Touching The Bad Tooth school of thought.

In the latest incident of You Can Predict Every Word Before You Read It, our favorite punching bag puts out the idea that Media Saturation is what causes everyone to hate on various teams (especially his favorites). I always love being told why I think things, don't you?

For the record... I don't hate the Patriots. I don't hate the Red Sox. Or the Yankees, the Colts, the Mets, the Giants, the Cowboys, the Redskins... and I haven't for a very long time.

A big part of this is fantasy sports. Once you've crossed the Rubicon of hard numbers for dollars and acquired the gambler's callousness (and let's face facts, fantasy sports *is* gambling -- just a less serious version of it, with plenty of levels between you and the pathetic no lifers at the dog track), you really do lose the ability to hate guys.

If my football leagues had all adopted a strict No Terrell Owens policy, I'd draft him more or less where he was slotted in my rankings, and take the dirty money. I've owned Barry Bonds, Manny Ramirez and a great many disagreeable others from teams that have ruined my team's dreams; it's not that big of a deal. If his team wins and beats mine, that really sucks, but it's not like I've got a dartboard in my basement with every team that ever took out mine in the playoffs.

No, what I've come to hate now are the actual fans.

The Masshole, with his bipolar insufferable arrogance / melodrama. The Yankee Fan, who seems to punctuate every disagreement with a call to violence or Ring Taunt. Cub Fan, who is just a championship away from being as bad as the Massholes. Giants Fan, with his painful to watch justifications for the Bonds Problem. And, yes, even my own fellow Philly Fans, who can't appreciate anything, even as they watch generally competitive teams, in brand new stadiums, with significant money to spend on their own athletes and free agents, and a not inconsiderable amount of success / watchable teams.

To all of you -- every single last one -- I have this time-honored advice.

Get On A Plane. Then, get off it, and don't get back on for a while.

Discover what it's like to not be in the warm cocoon of your hometown bubble. See a game from another venue without being part of an obnoxious army of invaders. Develop, for even just small moments, the perspective of having different problems than the ones you currently have. (And if the plane isn't feasible, just turn off your radio and your local Web sites and go spend some time in someone else's cyberhood.)

You'll find that life out here, beyond Red Sox Nation and the Yankee Empire and whatever other marketing slogan you've come up with to embrace groupthink douchebaggery, is actually kinda nice.

And it might also let you call a cheater a cheater -- regardless of the laundry on his back.

EmbarrASSing

So in case you haven’t heard, the Pats are suspected of violating NFL rules by video taping the defensive play signals of the NY Jets in last week’s game. A video assistant for the Patriots had his video equipment confiscated and it showed indeed that he was taping the Jets calls.

Before the season began, Commissioner Goodell warned all the teams that this type of behavior would not be tolerated this season. It’s time for the Commish to come down as hard on owners/coaches as he has on the players.

The talk is that multiple draft picks could be taken away from the Pats. That’s a good start but Goodell needs to do more. You want to hit Coach Sweatshirt where it hurts? Suspend him for a week. Not a game, a week. Meaning, he cannot be part of or present for any game week preparation for the next game. The suspension would run Sunday immediately after the game through the following next week’s game.

And just when you thought Coach Sweatshirt was the biggest ass in the Patriots organization, owner Bob Kraft had this little nugget to say,

When you're successful in anything, a lot of people like to try to take you down and do different things. We understand that.

That’s right Bob, you guys are being framed. The fact that YOUR employee was caught with YOUR camera filming something the league told YOU would not be tolerated is all a big conspiracy to take down the Pats. Stop talking and wait for Bill Simmons to write your defense, because you know he will.