In the words of many a regretful soul, perhaps Chad Ochocinco has too little to give too late in his career. His performance in game three has left too many cold. 

Many cynical media experts are laying into Ochocinco, noting how he is only a shadow of what he may have once been. Alas for Ochocinco, he may have noticed too late how “the times—they are a-changin’.”

Perhaps he played too long with too many mediocre teams to reverse the cellular damage now that he is with a championship caliber team and a Hall of Fame quarterback.

Has Ochocinco lost the faith of his star QB? How many drops can a man have? The answer is not blowin’ in the wind, but Ochocinco may soon be free to find his own way.

He has come to the Patriots, in the words of Bob Dylan, “Knock, Knock, Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door.”

Alas, the figure standing at the Pearly Gates of Gillette Stadium is not St. Peter, but devilish Bill Belichick. And, he’s holding the Bible of the Patriots, their playbook.

If Belichick finds you lacking, you will be sent packing for limbo faster than you can say, “Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man” three times. Ochocinco may end up singing, “It ain’t me, babe. No, no, no.”

The hard lesson of a man who took life lightly may be that youth is wasted on the young.

In his past Ochocinco had too many songs, too many dances, too many companions of good living, like a rolling stone, throwing a dime to the bums in his prime.

What he has lost is not a step on his running, but a loss of focus and concentration. Now that he needs it, he may find that it is lost and mislaid after liaisons with beautiful women and coffee with too much sugar.

You may have noticed Ochocinco doesn’t talk so loud, and his tweets are no longer proud. He’s not selling any alibis.