Belichick

Belichick, Kraft and Goddess Beg Brady to Return to Patriots

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Tap into the mindset of one of the thousands of cows crammed together at Tundra Fest in the parking lot of Lambeau Field.

You’ve been grazing for hours, eating other cows and donkeys George Foreman Senior sizzled on his gaggle of grills. You’re feeling the need to relieve yourself. But the lines at the outdoor Port-a-Johns are hundreds deep.

So what do you do? Even though you’re a relatively self-conscious cow, you drop your poop right there where you are. You rationalize the deed in your mind: “Hey, at Woodstock, people made love out in the public and were cheered on. What’s the big deal if I dump a honkin’ one on the parking lot asphalt? Cows are expected to do this kind of s—.”

So there you leave it, a cow chip from dried bovine dung. With the texture of solidified chocolate pudding and the color of cocoa mix, you’ve dropped the perfect cow chip because it’s roughly the size and shape of a frisbee. Feeling inspired, you duplicate that effort by ejecting two more.

You’ve created the athletic instruments for today’s cow chip toss between Tom Brady, Aaron Rodgers, and Brett Favre.

Under Tundra Fest rules, the three quarterbacks will attempt to sling the frisbee cow dung over Lambeau Field sort of like when Favre attempted to fly an 18-wheeler over the Superdome last weekend at Sports Gras. A crowd of 5.78 million people gathered around to watch the spectacle, and ESPN airs the event for viewers around the world.

The three men will also strive to heave the cow dung further than 266 feet, the national record set by Steve Urner at the Mountain Festival in Tehachapi, California in 1981.

Rodgers heaves one overhand and it flies halfway over the stadium but lands on the 42-yard line of the field where the game will be played on Sunday.

“Better get that dung off the field before tomorrow’s game,” says Brady. “Your throw was lame. And tomorrow I’m gonna put you to shame.”

Brady’s throws sails over the entire stadium, blasts through and breaks a collection of stadium lights on the facility’s apex, and hits a goat in the head on the other side of the stadium. The goat falls to the ground and dies instantly. George Senior grills the goat because people are still hungry.

“When you’re the GOAT, you can hit any goat you want,” he said. “But you guys wouldn’t know cuz you’re not the GOAT.”

Then Favre steps up.

“Oh my, what is Favre gonna do now?” asks John Madden rhetorically. “I mean, boom, he might throw the cow dung to the moon because that’s the kind of things Brett Favre would do.”

Favre winds up and lets the frisbee dung fly. It sails over the stadium and keeps spinning into the solar system. Scientists track the dung’s path with their telescopes.

“I knew it.  I mean how can anybody beat Brett Favre in a cow chip toss competition?” asks John Madden. “He not only broke Urner’s all-time record. He obliterated it. That cow dung he threw is still spinning around up there in space.”

Over at the competitive eating tent, Joey Chestnut eats 93 bratwurst links in 10 minutes, breaking the world record of 89 he set yesterday on Day One of Tundra Fest. For an encore, he also pumped down 102 Twinkies in five minutes. Minutes later, ambulances arrive and rush him to the Green Bay Hospital emergency room where he gets his stomach pumped and colin removed.

Tundra Fest exudes a vibe of soulful unification, a feeling of universal oneness. Under the radiant star that continues to burn bright above them in the sky, the illumination that guided them here to where football was born, people and animals have come together as one species.

“This is just so beyond unbelievable,” says Bill Walton as he takes in the sights and sounds. “We’ve got cow dung flying over Lambeau Field, thrown by three of the greatest quarterbacks the world has ever seen. Poop brings us back to our roots, to the basics of life, how we got here and where we’re going, where one day we’ll turn to ashes, but for now, we explore all that is great about the tremendous treats that come out of the backside of cows. It’s just amazing what those cows do and how they do it, making frisbees, I mean, you’ve just gotta appreciate such beauty. 

“Cows bring us together, make us all feel whole with all people, animals, the ground, and soil. We slaughter them and eat them and throw their crap around and the Foreman Five breakdance while juggling their crap. It’s just so much beyond description what it’s like being here today like we’re all born again into a cosmic new dimension of existence with pot being smoked and Cheech and Chong hanging out. What an otherworldly experience this is by any measure you can imagine.”

Walton’s spot on about the spiritual vibe, which rises to another level with the sudden and unexpected arrival of Three Wise Men, Robert Kraft, Bill Belichick, and Roger Goddess, carrying gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

Falling to his knees, Belichick says: “Bless me Tom for I have sinned. It has been 53 years since my last confession. I shouldn’t have criticized you so much. I should have told you more often than I appreciated you. And I shouldn’t have been jealous of you for being on the covers of all the magazines when I wasn’t. I beg, you, Tom, forgive me for my sins. Please come back to be my quarterback. I can’t win without you.”

Then Kraft drops to his knee and pours out his soul.

“We need you to bring the Patriots back to our Promised Land, Tom. We’ve come to cleanse our souls and to be forgiven for letting you go. We need you to bring us to that place we call Heaven, which is the Super Bowl championship.”

Brady’s not having it. 

“Get out of my way, you unwise men. I wanna throw my cow crap further than Favre. I’m hypercompetitive, as you know, I want to sling mine to Mars and beyond.”

“But Tom, we need you to come back and be our quarterback with the Patriots,” says Kraft.

“Don’t need no gold, frankincense, and myrrh,” he said. “The Bucs are paying me $20 million a year.”

Goddess pleads from his knees: “The NFL needs the Patriots to be in the Super Bowl with you on their team. We need the TV ratings to bounce back for me to keep making my $20 million a year. Please, Tom, come back to the Patriots so Kraft and Belichick will stop complaining to me that they can’t win a Super Bowl without you.”

“Look I got a game to play tomorrow on these sacred grounds of Lambeau Field,” said Brady. “You call yourselves wise men. Hah. You’re stupid men. Foolish dumb dolts, that’s what you are, not wise at all. You let me leave the Patriots. And now you’re paying for your sins. You’ll watch me win tomorrow and then win the Super Bowl. It’s gonna be Hellish for all three of you and Heavenly for me.”

Then a warm-up bank, Pink Floyd, plays this song about Hell:

The opening words fit the theatrics unfolding:

“So, so you think you can tell, Heaven from Hell, Blue skies from pain. Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail? A smile from a veil? Do you think you can tell?

Walton can’t hold in his emotions: “Now Pink Floyd has arrived to cleanse us from our demons, deliver us from evil, out of Hell and the darkness into the bright lights of Heaven. We’ve got three wise men on the scene. It’s all so biblical today, beyond comprehension, and yet so understandable. We’ve all lived and died today and been resurrected.”

 

To be continued…

Sammy Sportface

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Sammy Sportface

Sammy Sportface, a sports blogger, galvanizes, inspires, and amuses The Baby Boomer Brotherhood. And you can learn about his vision and join this group's Facebook page here: Sammy Sportface Has a Vision -- Check It Out Sammy Sportface -- The Baby Boomer Brotherhood Blog -- Facebook Page
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Sammy Sportface
Sammy Sportface
Sammy Sportface, a sports blogger, galvanizes, inspires, and amuses The Baby Boomer Brotherhood. And you can learn about his vision and join this group's Facebook page here:

Sammy Sportface Has a Vision -- Check It Out

Sammy Sportface -- The Baby Boomer Brotherhood Blog -- Facebook Page

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