“Jenna, you have to get me in the Bedford fantasy football league. I refuse to be in a league named Go Balls Deep.”—Anonymous friend on our office fantasy football team versus another league that we were both so graciously invited to join.
My phone vibrated, yay a friend! Nope, it was an email. “Womp womp” I thought to myself, most likely spam about a sale at Anthropologie. I opened my email to see the Bleacher Report headline: “Patriots ALERT: New England makes blockbuster trade.” After an interesting day already acquiring the controversial Abert Haynesworth, I wondered who it could possibly be…of course it was the Chad. My first thought: “What the F*%&*? Seriously, Bill?” As you may know, here at Fumbling Forward, we love the Chad. I think he’s hilarious and with each new tweet and venture, whether it be Dancing with the Stars, trying out bull riding, or delving into soccer, I get a kick out of him as a celebrity personality. But do I want him on my team? Does he fit in New England as a Patriot? I like to mock him from afar, but do I want him here, in Beantown, on my turf? That may be a little too close for comfort and I just wasn’t so sure.
After a day of mulling it over, reading articles, and thinking about the Chad as a player and as a personality, the more and more I like the idea of Chad becoming a Pat. He’s a good football player, you can’t really argue with that, it’s the personality side of things where it gets interesting to me. The Patriots, in my mind, are a serious franchise (except when Brady models with a lamb, that counts as silly)…Bill is all football, no nonsense. Just think back to the most pivotal game of last season against the Jets, the game that ended in Boston’s heartbreak and me eating $10 worth of sadness fro yo and mochi. Bill made a bold move and benched Wes Welker for his comments to the media on Rex Ryan’s infamously embarrassing foot fetish, a move that contributed to their ultimate loss. In other words, Bill doesn’t stand for media shenanigans. Ocho on the other hand, he’s all about being silly and being a public personality, it’s what makes him a rare gem that I love to follow. Though he and Bill did happen to have a man-affair after this past year’s Pro-Bowl where Bill was Chad’s coach and the two were constantly commenting to the media about how much they respected one another, and how they had become bosom buddies…how will Bill deal with his constant flow of tweets? His half nude pictures? His very public-style lifestyle?
In Chad’s defense, I really do think he’s appreciative and excited to become a part of an established, winning team that has it’s shit together, maybe it will make him a more serious man (though that would actually be so sad and booooring). If his Twitter is any indication, he is most definitely an excited little schoolgirl. Today, he changed his picture to one of him and Brady shaking hands (it was previously a picture of him basically nude #typicalOcho). This picture change is the equivalent of making your Facebook default one of you and a friend…that’s how you know you’re someone’s real bff…if you make it to the default. Chad has also been tweeting that he’s in “heaven” and “God is so good” indicating he’s one happy marshmallow-roasting, s’mores making camper with his current situation. The other thing that will be interesting to see…will Chad pursue Aaron Hernandez’s #85 jersey? Will he continue on to becoming a New England Patriot as “Ochocinco?” Or will he decide to maybe prove a point, show he’s going to be a more serious man, and leave the Ocho alone?
No matter what, Ocho is definitely going to bring some spice, flavor, and character to my beloved Patriots.
Yes, the “fact” that he “doesn’t even like black girls” is his defense argument for why he is not guilty of sexual abuse in the form of fondling a waitress. Let’s hope Bill can straighten this jacka$$ out.
As previously mentioned, though I may not be the most athletic apple in the bunch, in high school I played field hockey and for a brief period of time was actually a starter and somewhat of a JV field hockey supah stah. It was sadly all downhill once I made varsity, bench city for me…womp womp.
Each summer, as I started to see the ever depressing and uber premature TV commercials for back to school clothing and supplies, and pre-season started to increasingly loom in the near future, my parents would encourage me to “get back into shape” solo before I embarrassed myself in front of my team. However, without the taunting yells of a coach, the obnoxious blowing of whistles, motivation from my teammates, and general group practice direction, I was often left with little desire to prepare for a pre-season of running miles and practicing drills in the oppressive end of summer heat. My parents however, knew that if I sat on my butt all summer and vegged out, I would most likely collapse into a heap when faced with my first set of sprints. So on summer family vacations I would “go for runs” and “practice stick work” in my spare time, all a bit begrudgingly (“it’s my summer, let me beeee”), but of course I thanked them later on for pushing me (and getting me a trainer that one time! I hated it and just wanted the dude to leave me alone…that was a fail).
For the super human NFL athletes, the off-season usually doesn’t have to be a solo keeping in shape gig…they kindaa have all the facilities and resources any workout buff, or pro-athlete’s heart could ever desire. However, the lockout consumed the off-season this year (duh) and the big boys were left to their own devices. Though many of them can just roll in dough in their free time because they are filthy rich and can most certainly afford personal trainers, did all of them keep in tip top fighting shape? Let’s hope the Patriots team members did because I’d be willing to bet that Bill would not have stood for my lazy out of shape ass waltzing into training camp like it was a day in the park, and he most certainly won’t stand for that from his team. It definitely won’t take him long to figure out who among the Pats had a love affair with their couch, peanut butter, beer, and fried chicken these past few months, and when he does, he’s gonna whip them into shape.
My advice to you out of shape NFL players: download the song “Whipped Into Shape” from the Broadway musical, Legally Blonde, and let the words inspire you. A sampling: I want you whipped into shape When I say jump, say “How high?” You’ll know you’re doing it right When you start to cry
“Maybe I’m something of a traditionalist, but I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to choose football over your wife after you marry her, not before so you can at least have sex one last time on your honeymoon.”—TheSuperficial.com on the break up of Chicago Bears QB Jay Cutler and annoying valley girl pseudo celeb Kristin Cavallari
I sweat. I sweat a lot. Just ask my kickball team…or anyone who’s ever seen me in the heat/summer/gym/my un-air conditioned apartment. This “sweating” translates to nerves. I’m not one of those people who’s always on edge, but I’m a planner, I like to be on time, and I like to stick to my plans…so yea, sometimes I sweat the small things and let them frustrate and annoy me. However, ladies and gentlemen, my faithful readers who have stuck by my little blog’s side during the off-season/lockout, we no longer have to sweat one thing in our lives…worrying about the uncertainty of a football season is donezo, THE LOCKOUT IS OVA (insert fireworks, dancing in the street, hallelujahs, slow motion jumping in the air high-fives, popping of champagne bottles)!
So we’re back in business, but what does that mean after such a long hiatus? It means a free-agent shit show, it means a packed two weeks of training camp, it means tons of meetings, it means intense learning of plays…essentially playing catch up on everything that would have been going on in the off-season, but the players weren’t allowed to take part in. The teams with lots of rookies, new coaches, anyone new, are going to suffer due to their lack of team experience, as where the teams with vets who know their team’s drill, will have an advantage.
So, everyone, dust off your fave jersey, get out your beer helmets, rummage through your drawers for your lucky Sunday funday underwear and get ready… football’s back, oh yes, oh yes.
Motivated by my love of a rockin’ all you can eat brunch buffet (plus an ice cream sundae bar, the way to my heart), afternoon cocktails, American patriotism, and nostalgia for spending a Sunday afternoon at my most favorite of Boston sports bars, I decided to dabble in watching Women’s Soccer yesterday afternoon. More specifically, if you were unaware, the Women’s World Cup Soccer Finals, America vs. Japan.
As with the times long long ago when I would only be present at such sports-viewing events for the food, drink, and company, I was, I admit, mostly there for the endless rows of interesting waffles, pancakes, eggs, and cakes (note to Tavern in the Square: cranberry hash browns are not, I repeat, not a good idea).
While my focus was first on the food, my mind was totally open to learning about soccer and investing some time in legit paying attention (and boy watching, whatever, I admit it). In addition, in this blog’s underlying, ongoing, platform shoe-wearing, bedazzled United Kingdom flag mini-dress-wearing, Spice Girl’s “girl power" in football/sports themes (that was a mouth full), I was also specifically interested in witnessing an entire bar filled with people supporting women’s sports, which I feel is on the rare side of the filet mignon. While the bar was not nearly as packed as it was for the Jets/Pats showdown this past season (mild understatement), everyone there was still actively engaged and invested in the game and I must say, my previous indifference to soccer did a 180. When I wasn’t preoccupied with feeling sick from the all you can eat brunch and my spicy/sweet "Ginger Rita" cocktail (yes, I was the only one not having beer…saving my beer gut for football season), I was absolutely captivated by how exciting the game was. These girls were wayyy more hardcore than the Spice Girls (girl power up the wazoo minus anything girly at all), and though I am certainly no expert on the rules or anything, I was ooo-ing, ahhh-ing, and ugh-ing, along with the rest of the bar. While I’m not on board for a game ending in a pressure-filled, pee-ing in your pants shoot-out like yesterday’s, that ended in Japan’s win, I will definitely be watching more soccer, men’s and women’s, in the future.
One last thing, Abby Wambach’s head-butting goal that brought the game to 2-1, holy sh*t was that the most badass thing I’ve seen.
While It’s been over a week since our nation’s birthday and the most Bostonian/patriotic day I’ve ever had, I wanted to share a photo that my friend snapped of me at the Red Sox game since it is a hilariously accurate portrayal of the delirium I was experiencing due to the heat (similar to what I’m experiencing at this very moment in my un-air conditioned, but fan filled apartment). He has a ton of other amazing photos you should check out on his flickr and his blog: fitztudio.com.