It was a beautiful early spring day in Portland’s Monument Square. I was sitting on a slab of concrete eating a turkey sandwich when I saw him: A Channel 8 photographer with an SUV-sized video camera slung over his shoulder and a searching look in his eyes, like he was trying to find Waldo hiding in the bustle. I recognized that searching look. He was trying to hunt down viable interview subjects.
You wouldn’t think a shy person would be itching for 10 seconds in the spotlight of a local channel’s evening news broadcast, but hey, that’s what’s makes me such an enigma, baby. (In my own mind at least.) My smile widened when he approached me and asked if I’d give a moment of my time. When I assented, he pointed his ’droid-like contraption at my face and fired off a few questions.
About Deflategate. Which threw me.
I’d thought the whole controversy was over. Yet here we are, a year and a half later, and people are still getting into contentious debates about this goofy controversy. Britain just voted to leave the European Union, we’re in the midst of a presidential contest between an oafish gorilla and the Wicked Witch of the West, but people are still red-faced and apoplectic about how much air pressure was in the footballs during a 43-8 snoozer. I gave the Channel 8 guy what we wanted, but the whole encounter left me confused. Do people still actually care about this stupid issue?
Yes. Yes, apparently they do. In fact, during last week’s debut episode of sportscaster Bill Simmons’ new HBO talk show “Any Given Wednesday,” a passionate and acid-tongued Ben Affleck delivered a profanity-laced tirade, claiming the NFL’s four-game suspension of Patriots quarterback Tom Brady amounted to a “ridiculous smear campaign.” Rumors are circulating that Affleck was drunk during the appearance, which I suppose isn’t outside the realm of possibility. I mean, he’s from Boston. C’mon. But New England die-hards generally don’t need liquor to get their hackles up over all things Brady. He’s like a Norse god, inspiring equal parts respect and defensiveness. Not to mention shrines of worship.
In case you’ve spent the past 18 months liposuctioning the fat from overweight seals at an Antarctic research facility, here’s Deflategate in a nutshell: In January 2015, the Patriots slaughtered the Colts 43-8 in the AFC Championship game, sending Brady and company to yet another Super Bowl. At some point during the game, a Colts player noticed the balls were somewhat limp and floppy. (The game balls, you perv.) Accusations flew that Brady and the team had arranged to have the balls deflated as a way of making the grip better. The NFL imposed a four-game suspension on Brady, he appealed it and won, but now, thanks to a circuit court ruling, the four-game suspension is back on, to be served at the beginning of the upcoming season. Brady also has to sing “Buttons and Bows” while wearing a dinosaur costume during an upcoming taping of “America’s Got Talent.”
All caught up? Excellent. Oh, and I was making up the “Buttons and Bows” thing. But now I want to get a petition started.
Full disclosure: I’m a big Pats fan. Have been since I was knee-high to a garden gnome. I was four or five when they made their first Super Bowl appearance against the Chicago Bears, and the only I thing I remember about the ordeal is my mother clutching the sides of her head and yelling at quarterback Steve Grogan to “Just throw the damn ball already!” They got spanked in embarrassing fashion, and though I couldn’t tell a defensive lineman from a bratwurst sandwich at that time, I still felt … well, deflated. Even to a toddler they looked like carnies scrambling to clear the remains of a circus tent after a tornado. I dreamed that someday they would be great.
The seeds were sown for lifelong fandom, so my opinion on Deflategate is far from objective. Maybe Brady did it. Maybe he didn’t. I’m not a judge. But I do have judgement, and my judgement tells me there are far more pressing matters in the world, even within the narrow confines of professional sports. You’ve got guys stabbing themselves in the groins with sword-sized needles so they can ’roid up their muscles and bike the Tour de France in the time it takes to finish a Ramones album. Baseball players in the ’90s were so juiced on junk they’d smash screaming home runs that could puncture the solar panels of low-orbit telescopes. Olympians can now pole vault over airborne Learjets.
But wait, everybody! The air pressure in this ball is low! Cover your children’s eyes! Oh, my aching exclamation points!
Sorry. Had a bit of a moment there.
Look, cheating is cheating, and it’s obviously wrong, no matter the degree. If Brady was the mastermind of a vast ball conspiracy, he should be punished for it -- sorry, superfans. Whether enough evidence exists to prove his guilt is something I’ll leave to more interested parties; I’m generally too busy gluing macaroni collages in my subterranean lair to give a rat’s fat behind.
Let’s have a little perspective, though. We’re on year two of this “controversy.” Year two. Peace accords among warring nations have been forged in less time. I understand there are people who take football seriously, but it is, after all, a game. It’s only real value is in the lessons it offers about teamwork and sportsmanship. Any player not holding up his end of that particular bargain should pay a price, but Brady’s price has been paid, if he ever really owed it to begin with. It’s well past time for fans and the media to move onto more urgent matters, like which Hollywood actor is next in line to play Spider-Man.
Now I’ve got a homework assignment for any budding young scientists out there. Take this column, compress it down into a 10-second soundbite, travel back in time and hand me notes to use during my impromptu Channel 8 interview. I’m not happy with my response, and I could use a do-over.
You wouldn’t think a shy person would be itching for 10 seconds in the spotlight of a local channel’s evening news broadcast, but hey, that’s what’s makes me such an enigma, baby. (In my own mind at least.) My smile widened when he approached me and asked if I’d give a moment of my time. When I assented, he pointed his ’droid-like contraption at my face and fired off a few questions.
About Deflategate. Which threw me.
I’d thought the whole controversy was over. Yet here we are, a year and a half later, and people are still getting into contentious debates about this goofy controversy. Britain just voted to leave the European Union, we’re in the midst of a presidential contest between an oafish gorilla and the Wicked Witch of the West, but people are still red-faced and apoplectic about how much air pressure was in the footballs during a 43-8 snoozer. I gave the Channel 8 guy what we wanted, but the whole encounter left me confused. Do people still actually care about this stupid issue?
Yes. Yes, apparently they do. In fact, during last week’s debut episode of sportscaster Bill Simmons’ new HBO talk show “Any Given Wednesday,” a passionate and acid-tongued Ben Affleck delivered a profanity-laced tirade, claiming the NFL’s four-game suspension of Patriots quarterback Tom Brady amounted to a “ridiculous smear campaign.” Rumors are circulating that Affleck was drunk during the appearance, which I suppose isn’t outside the realm of possibility. I mean, he’s from Boston. C’mon. But New England die-hards generally don’t need liquor to get their hackles up over all things Brady. He’s like a Norse god, inspiring equal parts respect and defensiveness. Not to mention shrines of worship.
In case you’ve spent the past 18 months liposuctioning the fat from overweight seals at an Antarctic research facility, here’s Deflategate in a nutshell: In January 2015, the Patriots slaughtered the Colts 43-8 in the AFC Championship game, sending Brady and company to yet another Super Bowl. At some point during the game, a Colts player noticed the balls were somewhat limp and floppy. (The game balls, you perv.) Accusations flew that Brady and the team had arranged to have the balls deflated as a way of making the grip better. The NFL imposed a four-game suspension on Brady, he appealed it and won, but now, thanks to a circuit court ruling, the four-game suspension is back on, to be served at the beginning of the upcoming season. Brady also has to sing “Buttons and Bows” while wearing a dinosaur costume during an upcoming taping of “America’s Got Talent.”
All caught up? Excellent. Oh, and I was making up the “Buttons and Bows” thing. But now I want to get a petition started.
Full disclosure: I’m a big Pats fan. Have been since I was knee-high to a garden gnome. I was four or five when they made their first Super Bowl appearance against the Chicago Bears, and the only I thing I remember about the ordeal is my mother clutching the sides of her head and yelling at quarterback Steve Grogan to “Just throw the damn ball already!” They got spanked in embarrassing fashion, and though I couldn’t tell a defensive lineman from a bratwurst sandwich at that time, I still felt … well, deflated. Even to a toddler they looked like carnies scrambling to clear the remains of a circus tent after a tornado. I dreamed that someday they would be great.
The seeds were sown for lifelong fandom, so my opinion on Deflategate is far from objective. Maybe Brady did it. Maybe he didn’t. I’m not a judge. But I do have judgement, and my judgement tells me there are far more pressing matters in the world, even within the narrow confines of professional sports. You’ve got guys stabbing themselves in the groins with sword-sized needles so they can ’roid up their muscles and bike the Tour de France in the time it takes to finish a Ramones album. Baseball players in the ’90s were so juiced on junk they’d smash screaming home runs that could puncture the solar panels of low-orbit telescopes. Olympians can now pole vault over airborne Learjets.
But wait, everybody! The air pressure in this ball is low! Cover your children’s eyes! Oh, my aching exclamation points!
Sorry. Had a bit of a moment there.
Look, cheating is cheating, and it’s obviously wrong, no matter the degree. If Brady was the mastermind of a vast ball conspiracy, he should be punished for it -- sorry, superfans. Whether enough evidence exists to prove his guilt is something I’ll leave to more interested parties; I’m generally too busy gluing macaroni collages in my subterranean lair to give a rat’s fat behind.
Let’s have a little perspective, though. We’re on year two of this “controversy.” Year two. Peace accords among warring nations have been forged in less time. I understand there are people who take football seriously, but it is, after all, a game. It’s only real value is in the lessons it offers about teamwork and sportsmanship. Any player not holding up his end of that particular bargain should pay a price, but Brady’s price has been paid, if he ever really owed it to begin with. It’s well past time for fans and the media to move onto more urgent matters, like which Hollywood actor is next in line to play Spider-Man.
Now I’ve got a homework assignment for any budding young scientists out there. Take this column, compress it down into a 10-second soundbite, travel back in time and hand me notes to use during my impromptu Channel 8 interview. I’m not happy with my response, and I could use a do-over.
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