Welcome to Planet Brady

 

Tampa Bay (-7) at Philadelphia

 

 

When Tom Brady left New England to ply his trade elsewhere, his trade being total global dominance, it was looked at as kind of a ceremonial retirement run like Jordan with the Wizards, but Tom Brady managed to trump EVEN MICHAEL JORDAN in his need to Control and Win EVERYTHING. Jordan was just an old man shooting jumpers and losing at cards when he went out, stripped and humbled by Time and Society. (I mean, for a given definition of “humbled” anyway…) But Tom Brady went out and just won another Super Bowl like it was no big thing.

 

 

There are vistas which this dude has seen that we have not, walking a staircase made from the bones of every player who tried to beat him, standing on top of a Mount Olympus of human suffering and pleas for mercy, tears stolen from children and frozen into little razors to cut themselves with as Tom Brady raises his hand to Mars and makes a challenge to the worlds beyond because this one isn’t enough for him.

 

 

It’s beyond hate or disdain for me. I am just fascinated with this dude, who has to be doing incredibly dark and dirty things involving orphans and Gisele’s Uncle Klaus and secret laboratories with Nazi brains grown in a jar for… reasons, or maybe his Power of Will is such that he has transcended what it means to be human and now communicates with the Ancient Aliens who the History Channel wants us to believe terraformed the Amazon or whatever the fuck, and by that I mean the big fucking river not the website owned by Jeff Bezos who Brady probably meets with in secret talks on the moon to discuss how to make sure humanity remains enslaved for another millennium while Elon Musk rides a dinosaur he bought on Amazon in the background.

 

 

Whatever Tom Brady is doing is a thing no one else is doing, or has never done, because all of us 40 and over Midlife Crises Waiting To Happen crack a rib just from coughing or throw out our back trying to do skateboard tricks to show the kids that we’re not dead yet even though they don’t even know what a skateboard is because they are wired into the Matrix, and Tom Brady is a dude who has hacked the Matrix and is allowed to stay the same Golden God Tom Brady Age that he has been for the last quarter century or damn near. He is just a Constant, and the NFL just ripples around him as he finds new toys to play with and new bros to go to Nirvana with him only they will all break and die, like asteroids broken up by the atmosphere, and then a new cast will crop up and Jesus Christ, maybe Tom Brady has always been here, like in 1415 he was leading a team across the field at Agincourt to fuck up another round of fancy French knights with knives and balls and chains and shit while the forward pass was invented by the archers serving volleys into the French meat machine.

 

 

Shit, Tom’s been part of our lives, our culture, all along. Your great grandpa who once wrestled a bear? That was Tom Brady.  Your…. Look, I will cut this out now because you know I will only get myself in trouble if I start getting weird with this. Well, weirder anyway. The point is that Tom Brady is without limits, even in space and time. He is God’s monster sent to show us the venal greed of humanity in its ultimate form, insatiable, just can’t get enough, or he is a Monster God of his own from some distant realm come to fuck with us and our stupid as fuck football games which he wins every time he winks to the Man In The Moon, who I think we established was either Bezos or Elon Musk riding dinosaurs and making deals with Ancient Aliens, and he wins another Super Bowl.

 

 

And then there’s Philadelphia.

 

*insert gif of a crack whore skittering across the street*

 

 

The Eagles won the Super Bowl, but because they are classless bums they just degenerated into a pile of shit while poor Tosh got drunk on vodka and maybe high on cocaine and I told your mom I would look out for you, but shit Tosh, you’re on your own here. All of Philly fell prey to this decadence. I mean, good for them, I guess, so much pent-up hatred and other weirder feelings and it’s basically just an episode of It’s Always Sunny…

 

 

But there are no comic writers here (shut up) just an endless parade of lackluster performance which soon degrades into failure and now that fucking crack whore is skittering across the street again. The Eagles had no second act for their Super Bowl movie, and now they are just sort of throwing shit out there and seeing what works, and that means Jalen Hurts fumbling out of his own endzone sometimes and shit, maybe sometimes he’ll run really far, but wasn’t Carson Wentz supposed to be the Dude? No, he was evicted from Philly for refusing to eat a literal dogshit sandwich, which was prepared for him by a 7 year old Brownie named Emily with her dog, a ratty looking thing named Tito, who sprayed some truly odious shit that Carson Wentz was not man enough to eat, and that is why he is in Indianapolis today, wondering why everyone is so fucking fat as corn syrup drips from the heavens like a plague.

 

And so Jalen Hurts has to take on a possibly Immortal Tom Brady, with the people of Philadelphia armed with batteries and frozen turds to hurl if things go sideways and they probably will. It will likely go down as an easy win for the Bucs, who are in Cruise Control already, just waiting for Agincourt Part 2 which is just the next phase in Tom Brady’s Agincourt Trilogy, which will be spun off onto dozens of series only on Disney Plus! Corporations Love You!!!

 

 

Pick: Tampa Bay