Tom Brady is also dorkier than you

In honor of yesterday's hard fought win over the Bears, it's time for another installment of "Things You Can Tell About Tom Brady Just By Looking At Him."

*Tom Brady has at least two Boba Fett action figures.
*The first thing Tom Brady did when he got some money was buy a king sized waterbed. A near drowning in a tragic stiletto/waterbed accident prompted him to buy a normal bed once he imagined the headlines.
*Tom Brady's fridge contains three kinds of mustard, a crusty ketchup bottle, seven packets of take-out soy sauce and a six-pack.
*The only decoration in Tom Brady's house consists of a well-worn Joe Montana poster tacked up crookedly above the fireplace.
*Tom Brady watches a lot of Bruce Lee movies.
*Tom Brady spends hours sitting in his underwear and geeking out over baseball cards.
*Tom Brady has at least three stale boxes of Cap'n Crunch in his kitchen. But not the kind with Crunch Berries. Crunch Berries are gross.
*Tom Brady takes losing bets like a man. (That's Mike Vrabel's OSU jersey).
*Tom Brady has four of these in his living room. (For which I do not judge because I totally want one).
*Tom Brady has been known to build a fort out of empty pizza boxes and 2-liter bottles.

Things we don't know are true...but we know they're true. You know?

So, whatdaya think? Got anything to add?

While you think about that, I'm going to start construction on the Asante Samuel statue. How tall should it be, do you think? And should the dreads be solid gold or just gold plated?

Dennis Eckersley Has a Bronze Mullet

You only wish you were that cool.

I mean, honestly, one of the coolest things about the Hall of Fame is seeing how well the players likenesses translated to the bronze plaques. Marianne noted that all Orioles inductees were sporting the cartoon bird which is funny looking on such a fancy schmancy plaque. Ted Williams looks less grumpy than he evidently was (I'm rubbing his hat for luck, of course), and Pudge Fisk has some bizarre dental relief going on. Of course, as Amy pointed out, you have to be some kind of badass to overcome a name like "Carlton Ernest Fisk."

The Hall of Fame is just a really fascinating place. And one, I would guess, that warrants repeat visits considering that they keep changing and adding new things to the museum component. And, of course, there's always the new inductees to see. I really like that they let you walk up and touch the plaques. It's interesting to see who the favorites are just by how shiny and worn the faces are. (For what it's worth, nearly all Red Sox inductees are well-loved.)

As for the museum, there's some really fascinating stuff. I was looking forward to seeing the bloody sock and Curt's cleats and they were there, of course. But, truthfully, the sock is kinda gross. I mean, it's a sock. With blood on it. Were it not behind glass, I'm guessing it would probably smell too. Which is not to say that I'm not incredibly ecstatic about the fact that it's there, and which doesn't mean that I didn't dearly love the look on the face of Matt, the Yankee fan who attended with us, but still, it's all about this.

Oh, heh, and the ball is there too. You know THE ball. This one. "Donated by Doug Mientkiwicz." Awesome.

Last year's Gold Glove was also on display with pictures of all the winners. I had to take a picture to prove that, in some capacity, Jason Varitek is in the Hall of Fame. Of course, so is Khalil Green in a Padres display so I'm not really sure what that means but there you have it.

In one display, the room is set up to look like a locker room with a different locker housing memorabilia from each team. The Sox locker has Manny's jersey, Pedro's hat (with scundge all around the brim), Johnny Damon's bat, Orlando Cabrera's glove, a piece of the Green Monster signed by David Ortiz and, inexplicably, the hat and sweatshirt Jimmy Fallon wore in "Fever Pitch." Inexplicably because there is an entire other room for "Baseball in the Movies" and also because I didn't like "Fever Pitch" at all and think that Fallon's shirt has no business next to Pedro Martinez's hat. Anyway...

Of note in other lockers: Eric Gagne's goggles, Curt Schilling's Phillies hat (that thing is disgusting and would make Trotter proud), Jim Thome's jersey, and Barry Bonds' normal-sized head. Okay, I'm kidding about that last one but it is worth noting that it's impossible to find a picture of Bonds in his Pirate days in the Hall of Fame. Just sayin'.

There is also an interesting display with a bunch of other Ted Williams' stuff which consists of a strike zone-sized case of baseballs, color coded and sporting numbers. The numbers represent what Williams believed his average would be if all the pitches were pitched in that particular area. The picture is kind of fuzzy but it's fascinating to study that and realize how intensely Williams studied hitting. He knew the ins and outs of his swing and was well aware of his own weaknesses. I wonder if today's hitters study hitting that much. I imagine that a similar display for Jason Varitek's strike zone would have a bunch of balls with .000 written on them in the upper part of the zone. Mark Bellhorn's might just be a big, black hole.

I would highly recommend the Hall of Fame. We spent hours there without even realizing it. It's extremely comprehensive with displays on women in baseball and the Negro Leagues as well. It could use a few more feathered, bronze mullets but then, isn't that pretty much a truism in life?




















(Me and The Rick chill with the boys in bronze)

Happy Thanksgiving!

So I know I promised Hall of Fame pictures. And they are coming, I swear. But I was without internets for a day (just take my right arm while you're at it), and I can't possibly post the pictures without putting up the one of Eck's plaque. Which does, as you might imagine, sport a FANTASTIC bronze mullet. Pics coming soon.

Until then, have a Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

I'm off to eat some more mashed potatoes.

Snazzy!

(pic courtesy of Amy)

That's a snazzy outfit there, Derek. Pretty sharp. I mean, that's just the coolest. Who needs a stupid MVP when you have a tight black and teal getup with reflector spots?

Snerk.

Congrats Justin Morneau. I was under the impression that all awards automatically defaulted to Jeter, so nice work switching that up. Man, someone is gonna be writing a strongly worded letter to the Commissioner's office.

Oh, and after "Elijah's" performance on Monday Night vs. the Jaguars, methinks it might be a tense Thanksgiving around the Manning household. Perhaps forgotten brother Cooper will get the drumstick after all.

Tough week for supposed MVPs in MLB and the NFL. And I like it.

Things you can tell just by looking at him...

(photo from Boston.com)

I haven't the slightest idea what's going on in this picture, but it pretty clearly illustrates my point. That being that Tom Brady is the dorkiest dork that ever dorked. Among the things you can tell simply by looking at him:

-Tom Brady's favorite movie is "Top Gun." He's asked people to call him "Maverick" on more than one occasion.
-Tom Brady LOVES Bon Jovi.
-Tom Brady has rocked the hell out to George Michael's "Freedom" in his yellow Jeep.
-Tom Brady has danced, "Risky Business" style in his underwear.
-Tom Brady knows the names of all the tertiary characters in "Star Wars."
-Tom Brady once had a haircut featured prominently on a member of any 90s boy band.
-Tom Brady watches "American Idol."
-Tom Brady votes for "American Idol."
-Tom Brady enjoys a good Journey sing-along.
-Tom Brady cries uncontrollably when he watches "Brian's Song."
-Tom Brady still really loves to collect baseball cards.

Oh, yeah, Tom Brady has also earned his name back with his performance today. 4 TDs and a passer rating of nearly 130 will do that for you. Tom Brady also loves Troy Brown, Laurence Maroney, and Corey Dillon. Not necessarily in that order.

You know that if anyone feels bad about breaking Brett Favre, it's Tedy Bruschi. Not that it wasn't a completely normal hit that resulted in Favre getting hurt, but still. Plus, Rodney Harrison is in the business of breaking people. That's not usually Tedy's job.

Furthermore:

::waves tiny Cowboys flag::

Suck on that one, Peyton. Ha!

It would have been especially awesome if it had been someone like, I don't know, Oakland or Arizona to knock Indy down a peg, (or, obviously, New England), but I will take what I can get. Peyton Manning's goal line interception was especially sweet.

::giggles maniacally::

Not that I don't think the whole 1972 Miami Dolphins sitting in their luxury boxes and popping their champagne corks thing isn't severely ridiculous, but I'm just glad it's not Indy who dethrones them. I hate Indy. I'm guessing you've gathered that. Rooting for the Cowboys has left me with a slimy film covering my body and I must take several showers now, but you do what you have to do.

The Hall of Fame was, of course, COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY AWESOME! Pictures and post regarding that tomorrow. For right now, I'm going to go think on Tom Brady's Ultimate Game Time Mix Tape. Who wants to bet there's some Europe "The Final Countdown" on there?

Serenity Now

Figures that just as the Sox get embroiled in the biggest story of the Hot Stove season thus far and the Patriots sign 78-year-old quarterback Vinny Testaverde amidst rumors that Tom Brady is hurt (NO! NOOOOOOO!), I've got other things to deal with that will keep me from focusing my full attention on the Boston sports scene.

But don't worry, I haven't forgotten.

I'll be heading to Cooperstown this weekend with The Rick and Marianne and will be sure to bring back pictures and stories. I'll try to get one of Marianne crying in front of Cal's plaque because Marianne is not, by nature, a crier, and it'll be handy to have that documented for posterity's (and blackmail's) sake.

I've been to the Hall of Fame once before but it was in 2003. During Game 3 of the ALCS in 2003, to be exact. Also known as Pedro/Zimmer Smackdown '03. Most of the Hall was under construction and what we did manage to see was too crowded. There were also ENTIRELY too many smug Yankee fans to make the whole thing wholly enjoyable. Later in the evening, I actually had to leave a bar in downtown Cooperstown and take a walk down the street to keep from disemboweling anyone with a plastic butter knife. Hopefully, this time will be less stressful.

Of course this time, there's a little matter of the Red Sox 2004 World Series display. I suspect Marianne might not be the only one crying.

After Cooperstown, I might be incommunicado for a few days as I tend to some family matters. (Nothing major but if you could all send my momma some recovery vibes, that'd be much appreciated.) So in the off-chance that I'm not around for a few days, worry not, I shall return.

Or I won't because I've chained myself to Carlton Fisk's statue in the Hall of Fame. Whichever.

In my absence, why don't y'all tell me about yourselves? You know, name, age, location, feelings on the DH. I kid, mostly, but I would like to know more about my readers. Lots of you I already know as you've got keys to my apartment and you won't go away even if I change the locks, but the rest of you, I'd like to know better. Call it an informal study. So lemme hear it, who are you?

Jason Varitek's Big Night Out

(You just know those pants are pleated).

I wish not to speak of the football for fear that my rage will manifest itself in human form, flip over a car and set it aflame. Suffice it to say that Tom Brady will be referred to as "the quarterback" until he performs in a manner I deem acceptable to earn his name back. And let's not even discuss the offensive line.

ANYWAY...I would like to tell you all that on Friday night, Amy, Marianne and I ran into Jason Varitek's slightly smaller doppelganger at Harper's Ferry at the Appetite for Destruction show. (And yes, if you're counting, that's twice we've been to see a Guns 'N Roses cover band and twice that it was AWESOME!) But the best part of the evening was when Amy glanced over, nearly choked on her beer and said, "You guys, Jason Varitek is standing at the bar."

Seriously? The resemblance was uncanny. The same flat-top hair (slightly less gel as you could not actually see his scalp), the exact same facial hair and a snappy crewneck/fleece combo which you just know Tek would consider his snazzy going out outfit. From our vantage point, we couldn't tell if the pants were pleated or not but aside from that, he was the spitting image.

The poor guy. We stared at him entirely too much to remain on the sane side of creepy. After watching him rock out to "Patience," (and that is totally my jam so I was quite impressed, as you can imagine), and observing him giggle whenever "Axl" let fly with the profanity, (which was frequently), we couldn't take it anymore. Amy made her way over.

Apparently, the gentlemen has been mistaken for Tek on more than one occasion but was unclear as to whether or not this was a good thing. Amy assured him it was. He evidently tried to convince her that his name was actually Jason but his plan was thwarted when she demanded to see his driver's license. Then he tried to convince her that his thighs were just as magnificent. Again, not buying. She did determine, however, that the pants were not pleated. Which is a good start. That dude made our night, just by looking like Tek and rocking his face off to "Sweet Child 'O Mine." Now we know what it's like when Jason Varitek throws rock horns. It's something everyone should see at least once in their life. Next time, we're totally buying Tek a beer.

Also, while waiting for the band to take the stage, we killed time by creating additional rounds in Ray-Ray Got Next and we believe we've hit upon the only scenario in which Ray Lewis would not emerge victorious. Check it. Ray Lewis vs. Trot Nixon riding a fire-breathing dragon on a frozen lake stocked with electric eels. Because obviously, the dragon would breathe fire and melt the ice and Ray-Ray would fall through and be shocked the death by the electric eels. I mean, don't get us wrong, it'd be quite a fight - surely there'd be some attempts to use the eels to beat the dragon to death on Ray-Ray's part - but that just seems like too much to overcome. And yes, before you ask, it has to be Trot Nixon riding the dragon. Pretty sure no one else could pull off the requisite amount of rage.

Sometimes I wonder if people at bars hear part of our conversations and wonder if they heard right, or if it would make more sense if they'd heard the whole thing. These people should just be thankful they don't know us better.

Can't Keep a Good Man Down

Of course Rodney Harrison broke his shoulder blade. Of fucking course he did. Things were entirely too easy there for a while. I mean, aside from our starting right guard, we'd not had any major, high-impact injuries this season. And this is the Patriots. THEY SIMPLY DON'T OPERATE THAT WAY.

I'm strangely calm about this. I'm not really sure why. Possibly it's because I can look at last year and I realize that even after the hell pit known as Heinz Field broke Rodney and he missed the rest of the season, the Pats still managed to make the playoffs. Possibly it's because I realize that it's, you know, football and people are going to get hurt, especially Patriots players because they've apparently done something wrong karmically-speaking. And possibly because if I know anything about Rodney Harrison, I know that he is staple-gunning that scapula back together as we speak. I wouldn't want to be the doctor that tells him he can't play, is what I'm saying.

Now, Thomas is a different matter. There were shades of last year's playoff game in Denver in Sunday's game against the Colts and I did not like it one bit. As The Rick pointed out, he seems to have one bad game a season. Last year it was the Denver playoff game, the year before, the Miami game (which I thought we'd all agreed never happened), and then the Colts game on Sunday. He seems to mess up in the same way. Pressing too hard and forcing passes which leads to interceptions. It's unlike him. Usually, he shakes it off and he's back on point the following week and I can only hope that's what happens here. I have faith in him.

Of course, I saw part of his post-game press conference at the Coolidge Corner Clubhouse on Monday while the rest of the TVs were showing the boring as all hell Monday Night Football game between Oakland and Seattle and even without sound, he just looked so...sad. Like a kid who'd just lost his championship little league game. I normally want to engage in some kind of physical contact with Tom Brady because, come on, homeboy's a hottie, but this time, I was struck by the maternal desire to wrap him in a hand-knitted afghan, give him hot chocolate and warm applesauce with cinnamon and tell him that nothing bad would ever happen to him. Broke my heart. Don't do that again, Tommy. I don't like to be so girly.

But I must ask...why were we not running? I mean, that's not Brady's fault. What was Belichick on when he said, "Hmmm, horrible run defense. Let's pass!"? What was that about?

Dear Bill:

Don't do that again. Also, bring back the grey hoodie.

Kthnx,
Pats fans everywhere

Now we're subjected to even more endless hours of Peyton worshipping. As if that's possible. Such was my rage at the fellating that was happening in the broadcast booth on Sunday night that I actually tore apart a leftover birthday balloon with my bare hands. Several birthday balloons, in fact. I did smile, however, when Adam shanked two field goals. Karma's a bitch, eh, Vinatieri?

But still, In Bill We Trust. I mean, it's not as if the man hasn't lost a game before. And it's not as if he hasn't lost a game that mattered before. And hey, if Tommy's gonna turn human for one game a season, it's best it happens during the regular season and not during the playoffs like someone else I could mention. I fully expect the boys to be back to form this coming Sunday vs. the Jets. And they better be. Because Chad Pennington worship is something I simply cannot abide.

But it's best to keep this all in perspective. The Patriots are still a very good football team. Things could be a LOT worse. After all, we could be the Steelers.

Technical Difficulties

(as imagined by Sam for my birthday because she is the greatest)


Please stare at this lovely image of Jason Varitek on a unicorn while Kristen rambles on about the worst possible time for Tom Brady to turn human, wonders aloud if it hurts John Madden to have his head that far up Peyton Manning's ass and considers if John Mellencamp has been brought in to drive her completely batshit.

She will return shortly, provided that football has not actually broken her.

It. Is. ON.