
That you bought at the grocery store today
And it goes fast
You think of the past
And the clouds all form a geometric shape
And it goes fast
You think of the past
As you’re folding up the shirts you hesitate
Then it goes fast
Think of the past


The national media for the longest has been working to cement Tom Brady’s legacy as the greatest quarterback in NFL history. I can probably be talked into it despite all the Super Bowl L’s (and near L’s) he has taken in his career. You gotta give the guy credit for having such a long and fruitful career and even making it to 8(!!!) Super Bowls in his career.
The man is playing his best football at the ripe old age of 41, and it is impressive as hell. Forget the weird video of him kissing his son on the mouth. Forget the stupid MAGA hat, Trump (non) endorsement, and forget the fact that every time he is even sneezed on, the other team gets a penalty (and oh man does he have a history of crying to the refs for flags).
All that being said, the media has tried to flip the script and say this man is the greatest football player of all time. Do you know what kind of slap in the face that is to anyone who has ever laced them up in the NFL?
When someone says the word football player, I think of names like Deacon Jones, Dick Butkus, Gale Sayers, Warren Sapp, Mike Singletary, Ed Reed, Walter Payton, Emmitt Smith, Ronnie Lott, Barry Sanders, Deion Sanders, Lawrence Taylor, Charles Woodson, Ray Lewis, Devin Hester, Charles Haley–and even Hines Ward comes to mind. Half these names I listed didn’t even play offense and hardly touched the ball. That is how destructive they were to the opposing team’s game plan. Cover corners like Deion Sanders and Charles Woodson eliminated an entire side of the field when they were in the game. LT could decimate half of a team’s playbook because he was such a destructive force. You could say the same for Ed Reed or Ray Lewis, and even Charles Haley.
More times than not, next to the kicker, the quarterback position is where the worst athlete on the field lines up. A quarterback’s success is largely tied to so many other people doing their jobs correctly that it is disrespectful to single a QB out as the best player on a team. Ask former NFL QB’s like Randall Cunningham, Jeff George, Dan Marino, and Warren Moon how well being the best player on a team with no weapons worked out for them. On the flip side consider a the production a player like Terrell Owens had despite playing with quarterbacks like Tony Romo, Jeff Garcia and Donovan McNabb.
Let’s consider all the factors that have helped Tom Brady become the player he was:
Football is a team sport–the ultimate team sport. Quarterbacks get way too much credit as it is, especially in this new flag football era. You show me a QB who has success and I’ll ask you who his coaches and offensive linemen are, then I’ll ask who he is throwing the ball to. Basketball at best is 5 on 5 and one player can change the outcome of a game immensely. Baseball is a team sport based upon individuals performance, but football is a collection of everyone’s efforts and success that influence the game’s outcomes. Get ready for it though, if the Patriots win this Sunday, you’re going to hear all kinds of think pieces on how Tom Brady is the ultimate winner and football player. Just remember to tell them that the history of football goes back further than a couple of decades, and tell them to show some fucking respect.
BM
My 20’s were a roller coaster:
Lots of highs and lots of lows,
trying to figure out who I was, what I stood for,
and what I wanted out of life.
My 30’s were turbulent
but exciting. Big Peaks
Big Valleys,
and low ditches.
Finally knew what I wanted in life,
but hadn’t yet
figured out how to get there.
I want my 40’s to stay
incredibly funky
with only the minor dips
as I keep things steady
staying in the pocket
of where and who I wanted to be.
~Edward Austin Robertson
Her forbidden lips
were surprisingly juicy,
and tasted of berry.
This was no innocent make out.
~Edward Austin Robertson
She made all the heartbreak, heartache and misunderstandings
he’d ever experienced seem obsolete, trivial, and in some instances
disappear as if they’d never happened–which made them
in some ways feel absolutely worth it—all of it.
~Edward Austin Robertson
Tried my damnedest to make it to the Erik Satie museum out in Honfluer. Trains were running funky because it was a Sunday and I ended up stranded in some podunk town that resembled something out of American Werewolf in London. To top it off, it was cold and rainy. Ended up sneaking onto the Paris bound train accompanying this pregnant French woman who spoke good English and smoked bad cigarettes. I swore I’d never go back to France, but to this day I wish I had made it to that museum.
~Edward Austin Robertson
“You ever listen to Coltrane?”
“No.” replied sheepishly.
I’ve heard of him but never actually listened to him.
This was an embarrassing admission.
Being in college made it seem necessary
to be listening to jazz
and not the smooth stuff that my mom listened to
over the radio
This clerk, Brian, had similar tastes as I did.
Chances were that I’d dig whatever he recommended.
He handed me a copy of Greensleeves
to take back to the listening station.
As soon I as I put the headphones on and pressed play,
The world outside my brain synced up.
The rain fell in a rhythm and the passing automobiles
became its melody.
The people walking by cowering under their umbrellas
became percussion.
Life was finally starting to make sense.
~Edward Austin Robertson
Something felt off about the whole night;
triggering a reaction within my psyche
lying there on the couch listening
to John Paul Jones play the Mellotron.
She only confirmed it–
I was surprised not one bit–
when she admitted to me later
of her mild transgression.
Although initially it felt
like a punch to the gut,
that news was much easier to shake off
than the stuff that came afterward;
which was really threw me for a loop.
~Edward Austin Robertson
It was basically the worst peep show of all time.
Coming back repeatedly just to see
the same barista–
I was spending all my hard earned cash to catch a glimpse
of some bare wrist, or naked nape, possibly even some upper thigh
in exchange for expensive coffee and mediocre cuisine–
a brief show that ended
almost as soon as I received my change,
my signal to give up my place in line.
~Edward Austin Robertson
Is it possible
that you were just feigning modesty
when you shyly looked away
from my gaze?
~Edward Austin Robertson