FANZINE

I was watching the Patriot game this past weekend with a few male friends when the camera focused in on a helmetless Tom Brady. Immediately, the imbibing of adult beverages came to a halt. The room sat in silence until two young men, simultaneously gawked, “That Tom Brady, he is handsome.” As the coverage cut to a commercial and “this is our country” roared through the speakers for the first of many times that afternoon, we glanced to one another, then back to the two young men to reaffirm their frank declarations.

I find it beautifully ironic that America’s machismo anthem (which most likely slapped a divine smile on the face of Huckabee) was playing as four closeted homophobes, in a non malicious way that is (we just lack multi-cultural exposure) confirmed another man’s supreme sexuality with lack of hesitation. Even the balding, red haired law student removed his frameless glasses to catch a second glance of Tom’s magnificent chimple (chin-dimple) and professed to the room, “So let the voice of freedom sing out through this land, Tom Brady is handsome.”

And he’s right, that Tom Brady is handsome. So handsome that another friend joked that we should stop watching America’s Next Top Model and turn on the game. That was until the camera panned to Junior Seau’s upper lip to reestablish that we were actually watching a contest for hooligan supremacy. Upon first glance of Junior Seau, it appears as if he may have a Raul Julia styled moustache, when in fact he is the only man to my knowledge to have a muscle on his upper lip. But enough about him let’s get back to Tom…

Though it was unnecessary in the playoff game versus the Jaguars and common knowledge for any mediocre sports fan, Tom Brady has mastered the aptly named, “2 minute drill.” But what most people don’t know is that Tom’s two-minute brilliance expands beyond the pigskin domain. Give Tom two minutes and he will satisfy a woman, two minutes and he will create peace in the middle east, teach a bear and a penguin the “whose on first” routine, create human embryonic stem-cell colonies etc…Brett Favre may have a dick made out of denim, but Betsy Ross stitched together Tom Brady’s ball sack…side note: My room mate Nick referred to the time period when Brett Favre had braces on his teeth as “The Favre Dark Era.” Although it had no logic beyond oral aesthetic preference, his comment made me laugh hysterically.

Back to the room, I rose from my seat on the pleather, yet soporific cushions to steal some of Brian’s left over sesame chicken located in the refrigerator. The rest of the room was still paralyzed by Tom’s beauty while simultaneously engaging in internal penance for their unmanly thoughts…The constant duality of our emotions makes me hungry for Asian cuisine…(earlier that day the balding, red haired law student asked what they call Chinese Food in China, which we all agreed, the Chinese most likely just call it food.)

As the state of minutemen and Duck Tours partook in pre-game, celebratory cheers, I wiped my lips clean of stolen seeds and sauce, contemplating Tom’s chiseled mandible and his nearly perfect pass rating. Concurrently questioning his audacity to wear a New York Yankee hat while making sweet love to our cities beautiful women, I exited the kitchen acknowledging the fact that my dream of a NY Jets Super Bowl appearance was only fading further away. But then I realized that there was a person to blame for Tom being the sovereign of New England? Of course, it was my fault!

It’s egocentric to take credit for a man’s beauty and success but as a life long, delusional and rampantly distraught Jets fan I take credit for Tom’s greatness (it’s better than taking credit for Chad’s come-over or Mangini’s man tits). I vividly recall the moment when the Jets linebacker, Mo Lewis laid the pain on Drew Bledsoe causing the Patriots to put in their handsome back up QB from the University of Michigan. Unsure how to react by the damaging hit I turned to my Father for guidance. He held my hand and told me, “that hit is metaphoric, for the pain, misery and grief we will experience in the future.” I just giggled and continued watching the game…but he wasn’t kidding.

I often ponder what Tom would be like if Mo didn’t separate Drew Bledsoe’s shoulder and I’ve concluded that he would be a morose and soulless back up in San Francisco complaining to the call girl he recently purchased on craigslist about his disdain for living in a bayside community and how he can’t stand playing for a town which is most well known for their sexual preferences.

But that didn’t happen. Jet fans, like myself, who financially and spiritually support their team directly assisted in the rise of Handsome Tom, from back up to golden boy. As one who appreciates the difficulties and intricacies of the hooligan game, I must respect Tom for his dominance and put aside his poor choice of headwear. Though he is proven to be an extremely accurate and clutch passer, one can validly argue that he has only been a part of talented teams since he stepped off the bench that murky afternoon.

If you have seen the Patriots offensive line helmetless you would understand why Brady has all day in the pocket. He is protected by Woolly Mammoths from Middle America who hunt for their own food in the woods of Concord, Massachusetts, even though they have the fiscal means to buy the finest steaks Faneuil Hall has to offer. And whom does Tom have to pass to beside the agile Wes Welker and the horrifically talented Randy Moss. In utter hatred for Randy Moss’s baby blue and red attire during last evenings post-game press conference my room mate Nick screamed to the television, “Go fucking fishing Moss.” Once again, a comment with no rationality or logic but in some experimental form of expression it accurately conveyed the tri-state areas repugnance by his presence in our living rooms.

Beyond his two go to receivers, Tom is surrounded by a solid few receivers who have the boldness to wear jersey numbers in the teens. These receivers, especially Dante Stallworth are like the kid in high school who got a 100 on the test and then asked you what you got, and upon telling him that you got a 45 he still has the audacity to ask you to ask him if you would like to know what his grade was…they have a lot of chutzpah, and Tom makes them look good.

And the list does not stop there. He has outstanding tight ends, a dominant running back tandem and a dominant yet aged defense, led by a man whose last name starts with the letters “Vr” and a mutated Rodney Harrison. How can you suspend a man for steroids for 4 WEEKS and then put him back in the league amongst natural humans? Clearly Rodney’s body did not lose its transformation from illegal substances in such a short time span. It’s not like putting a man in jail; allowing him to serve time and then unleashing him back in the world. Rodney Harrison is still a freak! Did anyone else notice the strange occurrence of his two penalties for unnecessary roughness? And yes one could argue that he has always had an unstable disposition but I am certain that he should not be allowed to take part in a competitive and professional match of America’s favorite game until he can restore a level of human purity.

Brady also has a coveted coach named Bill Bellichek who prides himself in cheating on his wife with a New York Giant front office worker while wearing his stupid cut off sweatshirt. I may appreciate Tom Brady, but I can’t stand Bill Bellichek. I assure you it has nothing to do with the “Spygate” scandal or the fact that he ditched the Jets after a few days as their head coach. I am proud to say that I once turned down a photo opportunity with him. Upon telling my friend Chris this he responded, “that’s because you have character Jon.” He was right, I do.

But another man who has character is once again, Handsome Tom Brady. As I stated earlier, Tom could guarantee anything and complete it successfully in two minutes or less, but he refuses to engage in the stupidity of making guarantees. Contrary to Tom, I find it hilarious that week after week NFL players, sometimes back up corner backs on mediocre teams, find it necessary to guarantee that their team will be victorious. Don’t these morons know that the NFL is founded on the concept that NOTHING is guaranteed, especially their own contracts! I bet you are thinking, “you are a fool for saying this Jon, the most notorious guarantee since Babe’s point was by your own golden boy, Broadway Joe Namath before Super Bowl III.” However, even though he came through on his promise, I still find his actions absurd. Matter of fact, the entire nation now knows that Joe has an incongruous mind after watching him try to make sweet love to a female announcer on national television.

If I was the commissioner, I would institute a law called “The Handsome Tom Brady Law” stating, “no coach should ever wear leather or a cut sweater on the sideline and no player besides Tom Brady is allowed to make any guarantees.” Those that break this law would be sentenced to POW camps to understand what it is like to experience the true horrors of war, because the dream is still alive, someday it will come true, this is our country…puke.

PART 2

"Like I have said all along, I have the best doctor of all, and that is God."

–Terrell Owens

After the Cowboys, who previously won the first two contests with ease, fell to the NY Football Giants, an emotional Terrell Owen’s said, "I’ve always had good relationships with quarterbacks." Really Terrell? Really? Last time I checked you publicly accused Jeff Garcia of being gay in an issue of Playboy Magazine. Wasn’t Jeff Garcia your quarterback in San Francisco? You guys must have gotten along great! And how about Donovan Mcnabb, how’s your relationship? I’ll assume it’s not as "good" as you say, being that he responded to your claim that the Eagles were better off with Brett Favre as their quarterback, by calling it a "black-on-black crime."

Terrell, I’m not challenging your right to express yourself, but I think it may be time that you scheduled a check up with God. If you want a lesson in camaraderie and brotherhood you should observe Usi Umenyora and Demarcus Ware. Did anyone else see this story? These insatiable defensive players epitomize what is still great about sports. Even though they play on teams that pride themselves in their disdain for each other, Demarcus and Usi still stretch together before they embark in battle. Fuck, if Tolstoy were alive he would get a hard on watching these guys.

Their journey to the NFL began on a school bus in Auburn, Alabama. As a person who recently spent time in Auburn, I can assure you that even in the year 2008, it is not easy being a colored individual in the Deep South. Racism is rampant and it is disgusting.

After standing out on their high school team the two boys played college ball together at Troy State where they quickly developed into feared defenders. However their tenacious and menacing style of play spawned from their competitive friendship. A friendship that was solidified on the field but continues to blossom even though they stand on rival sideline.

Prior to last Sunday I was sure that The Waffle House was the best thing about Auburn, Alabama. No sir. I was incorrect.

* Eli Manning may have “come of age" in the past two games but his facial expressions still emit a state of perpetual discomfort.

*I feel bad for Shockey. He deserves to be out there. If T.O. was as good guy he’d introduce him to God.

PREDICTIONS FOR TODAY

1. The Patriots will either win by 35 or lose by 3….Chargers by 3…However, Phillip Rivers will be carted off the field in a straight jacket and ejected for insanity before the third quarter concludes.
2. Sorry NY but I think the Packers will beat the Gmen by seven. Favre is ready for the sunset.