There’s a bunch of things in life that I feel strongly about. Here are a few: I like to pan-fry my potatoes on medium high heat (and speaking of ‘medium’, the only way a goddamn steak (preferably a ribeye) should be cooked to perfection is medium rare), wear Tom Ford’s Private Blend fragrance Tobacco Vanille on a cold-as-hell (paradoxical) day, take inflammation-reducing ice cold showers, yell at unattentive, cell phone textin’ dumbfucks that can’t drive worth a damn and, last but not least, I want my quarterbacks to throw game-winning touchdown passes in pressure packed situations.
Yeah, that’s right: third-and-six, I want that sumbitch to fit a ball into an invisible, tight window, splitting through two big sumbitchin’ defenders that hits his wide receiver for an 11-yard strike and a first down.
If tomorrow I wake up and receive a phone call from some jackass NFL owner and the first thing they say to me is, “Troy! Mr. Sparks! Sir! We would like to hire you as the general manager of this ailing ball club! Pronto!”
“You what?!”, would be my retort.
“We want you, Mr. Sparks, to build our team into being a collective group of molecular structured beasts! You are the man with the plan to do it! You are the adversity beatin’, pie eatin’, trail blazin, eyebrow rais–”
“Yeah, yeah, stronger than a bear, all of that shit. Listen, I accept!”
And so when I accept my role as the head honcho, the decision maker, shot taker, boss baller, shot caller, checklister mauler, trophy hauler, already 6’3″ and shouldn’t be any taller, forever virile, never eats cereal, the absolute best in the world, makes opponents roll and curl… yeah, that role, the team’s scouts will greet me as such: “Mr. Sparks!? What should we focus on?!”
I want you dumb sumbitches to go out and scan the college football landscape for a quarterback that can sling a goddamn football all over the field without looking like a jackass eating tofu, take hits without lying on the ground like a little fragile chump AND deliver touchdown passes with five seconds remaining in games with the game on the line. Get somebody… like one Tom Brady.
But listen, people, there’s one Tom Brady, and there won’t be another. Not at that caliber. This past Sunday, the New Orleans Saints gave him three chances at a game winning drive. Three chances. Three by-gawd chances. And three times a charm, as I like to say, as Tommy Three-Rings tossed a touchdown pass to some dipshit receiver by the name of Kenbrell Thompkins in the back left corner of the endzone. (NOTE: Kenbrell Thompkins is not just some dipshit receiver; he’s actually pretty good. But because of his lack of renownedness, he still has a way to go before he’s a household name.)
Why would you give Brady three shots at a game winning drive? Why did the Saints’ offense play conservatively with a quarterback like Drew Brees? Now, for the most pressing question: why did the Saints roll with a prevent defense when it’s been proven, over and over again, that prevent defenses DO NOT work, yet these coaches are paid millions of dollars on the pro level to be innovative only to slip back into archaic ideas like these (here’s lookin’ at you, Rob Ryan) and allow quarterbacks to dash up the field for first down after first down or gape you by hitting receivers over the deep middle. Ridiculous.
So, Tom Brady’s done it again. Yet another game winning drive to add to his resume. Listen (again), I’m far from a Patriots fan, even though I defend that team like I am one. I don’t like ’em. But just like Aaron Rodgers, Tom Brady’s a bad motherfucker. Baddest of ’em all. Three Super Bowl rings (should be five), multiple MVPs, two Super Bowl MVPs, supermodel wife… dude’s the AAA (All-American American). I don’t see how he tops “most hated NFL players” lists when he embodies the true-to-life American spirit. I don’t get it. Detractors gonna detract.
Before you continue reading, read this (click).
Peyton Manning’s individual stats are top shelf baller level worthy. 22 touchdowns to 2 picks. Brady’s? Less than enthralling (8 TDs, 4 INTs). But Brady’s playing with a group of nobodies… and Danny Amendola (the oft-injured former Ram).
Peyton’s always had better weapons than Tom, but the year Tom had a receiving core that could compete with Peyton’s, he shattered Peyton’s old regular season quarterback records, and y’know why? And how? He had a stable Randy Moss for a year and the Pats went 18-0, before the met the New York football Giants’ defense in the Super Bowl and only managed 14 points as Michael Strahan and Justin Tuck made Brady’s life difficult back on February 3, 2008.
I had the great displeasure of watching Brady’s first ever example of clutchness on the grandest stage of them all. February 3, 2002, six years before Brady and the Pats’ loss to the Giants. It was Super Bowl XXXVI. The Patriots upset the heavily favored St. Louis Rams as he led the Pats’ offense down the field in the closing minute of the game before setting up Adam Vinatieri with a Super Bowl winning 48-yard field goal.
That was only the beginning. Brady did the same thing two years later when the Patsies defeated the Carolina Panthers in Super Bowl XXXVIII.
He’s been doing it over and over and over again.
(NOTE: By the way, Tom Brady has completed 71% of his passes to veterans this season and only 40% to ‘young bucks’. Shows how much a veteran presence truly matters on a roster, especially in a team’s receiving core.)
While Peyton Manning, year after year, fails to get the job done in January. Excuses are made, but the fact of the matter is, as I alluded to in the post I linked you readers to: the year Peyton finally won a Super Bowl, that postseason was anchored by Bob Sanders and that Colts’ defense as well as the luxury of playing against Rex Grossman. Peyton Manning went back to another Super Bowl in 2010, against Drew Brees and the Saints, and with the game on the online and a shot to take the lead, he threw the game-sealing (for the Saints) pick-6 to Tracy Porter.
You can take Peyton Manning and all of his signal calling at the line of scrimmage.
I’ll take Tom Brady, the guy that gets the job done when times matter most with less.