A lot of stuff happened yesterday: I went peach picking and got a big bag of delicious, juicy peaches. I also ate some wonderful ice cream make from a local farm and I even did a little cleaning around the house. Had I had a cup of Folger's coffee in my hands, it would have made an excellent and heart-warming commercial. A truly wonderful Sunday morning, it was.
And then some football happened.
At least, I think it did; it's a little hard to remember, what with the absolute beating my skull took as I continually smashed it into various hard and sharp objects. It was fortunate that I have terrible cranial aim, or my coffee table might be a little less table-y today.
It didn't start so bad, actually; in fact, it started rather as expected. Wes Welker did his android thing, bouncing back from a vicious attempt to rip his head off by showing the closest thing a robot can to anger and scoring a touchdown. Brady was doing his thing, too, passing the ball around the field and throwing touchdowns while winking at various female fans, killing them instantly. Even Moss made a desperate attempt to catch a butterfly as it zoomed through the end-zone, but caught a football instead, much to his chagrin. The first half of the Patriots-Jets match-up came to a close with the Patriots squarely in the lead and looking as sharp as usual.
And that's when it all went terribly, horribly, painfully wrong...
It all started when Bom Trady, Tom's evil twin, knocked Tom out using a table lamp, tied him up and stuffed him in a closet. Donning the silver and blue, Bom went out and did what Bom does best: Suck. In a staggering reversal, the Pats QB went from 2 touchdowns, many passing yards and a heart-rending smile that could make Lex Luther join the Salvation Army to 2 interceptions so close together that he didn't even give us enough time to finish cursing over the first.
Then Moss fell asleep around the start of the third quarter. Welker ran low on his Uranium reserve and started losing some steam. And to cap off the second-half-o'-fun, Darius Butler, in a stunning move that shocked even the most connected NFL insiders, agreed to a one-game contract with the Jets and proceeded to collect back-to-back defensive pass interference penalties that allowed the Jets to easily march up the field and score.
Belichick seemed quite surprised at the mess his team created. At least, I think he did, although it's hard to tell when dealing with a man who seems genuinely annoyed even when his team wins by forty. After the game, Brady summed up in just two words the sentiments of every Patriots fan by taking the podium and saying, with a shimmering tear brewing in the corner of his eye, "I'm gorgeous" while flipping his hair back. It would have been beautiful had he not spent the previous hour locked in a closet screaming "Bom!"
Next Sunday the Bills roll into Gillette and I can only hope Brady will take another Audi from Goodwill and run over Bom on his way to the stadium. Because I'm not sure I could take another performance like last night, and I'm certain my coffee table can't. I need more nachos...
In other news, the older, funnier Manning beat the younger, more awkward Manning in the Battle of the Mannings (TM). This is a game that featured exactly 5,271 emotional visuals of the elder Mannings looking on with very concerned expressions on their faces, and a fan clinging to a helmet like it was the key to everlasting happiness. Truly inspiring and moving, the event was, unless you consider that the actual game involved Peyton absolutely obliterating Eli without so much as shrug and a breathy, "I'm sorry."
Also, Zombie Favre really needs some brains, because he seems to keep getting confused and throwing to the wrong team. Maybe we can feed him Lee Evans...