erod
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The media isn't like cockroaches. There's a finite number of media. Cockroaches, I've determined through careful observation, can spontaneously generate from thin air.
However, that remains the lone distinction, with rare exception. Once keepers of the truth and safeguards against the corrupt, the Fourth Estate somewhere along the way became that in which it swore to counterbalance. An orchestrated ruse to distract the masses from the magician's off hand.
Even among sports journalists, yes, now a brain-bereft blowhard and an empty charlatan can invade ESPN airwaves and draw ratings on "First Take". That's how low these self-important wannabes will stoop. A yell-fest of selfish, unfounded, shock statements from guys who know better but don't care. Sadly, not even sports are immune, for Blackie Sherrod's sake.
But every now and again, they become useful.
Yesterday, suddenly, the days and weeks ahead got even a little more promising. Your Dallas Cowboys just found calm waters in the wake of an eastern-bound tsunami headed for Foxborough, Massachusetts.
The NFL, led by battered-and- bruised Roger Goodell, dropped an atom bomb the first day of Patriots camp by upholding the Tom Brady suspension, triggering a neurological implosion across the northeastern media, which probably hasn't eaten or slept since. They're group-hugging today at Patriots camp, trying to decifer it all and how to spin it. This'll keep them busy for weeks on end.
Meanwhile, three time zones to the west, a press conference will be held today with Jerry Jones still trying to shake the painkiller cobwebs from hip surgery. Katie bar the doors, there's no telling what he just might say given his newfound spryness, a dang good football team, and his mood buoyed by a doctor's prescription and maybe a swig of something blue.
Thankfully, the good news is it won't matter much what Jerry says today. Cowboys camp, relatively speaking, won't generate much of a blip for a good while. Not even with the owner's giddiness, heavy expectations, a running back conundrum, the catch in Green Bay, Hardy's reentry, Romo's back, Lee's knee, Ro's drama, Mincey's holdout, Dez's contract details, and all that a typical Cowboys camp entails.
No, August won't happen in a vacuum, but by silver-and-blue standards, Oxnard should be a respite of peace and football harmony, perfect to study up and prepare for a successful autumn and winter of content.
Wheels can most definitely fall off, as football often does to paper champions and unfocused favorites. Injuries may derail it all. Last year's team chemistry must be rebuilt, and new players must emerge as expected. Yada, yada, we know all the pitfalls that qualify every team's hopes.
But I like the start to it all. Let the psychotic feeding frenzy continue a million miles away. Thanks for trashing that phone, Mr. Brady. Maybe we'll see you in northern California in six months if you can't make it October 11th.
So when's practice?
However, that remains the lone distinction, with rare exception. Once keepers of the truth and safeguards against the corrupt, the Fourth Estate somewhere along the way became that in which it swore to counterbalance. An orchestrated ruse to distract the masses from the magician's off hand.
Even among sports journalists, yes, now a brain-bereft blowhard and an empty charlatan can invade ESPN airwaves and draw ratings on "First Take". That's how low these self-important wannabes will stoop. A yell-fest of selfish, unfounded, shock statements from guys who know better but don't care. Sadly, not even sports are immune, for Blackie Sherrod's sake.
But every now and again, they become useful.
Yesterday, suddenly, the days and weeks ahead got even a little more promising. Your Dallas Cowboys just found calm waters in the wake of an eastern-bound tsunami headed for Foxborough, Massachusetts.
The NFL, led by battered-and- bruised Roger Goodell, dropped an atom bomb the first day of Patriots camp by upholding the Tom Brady suspension, triggering a neurological implosion across the northeastern media, which probably hasn't eaten or slept since. They're group-hugging today at Patriots camp, trying to decifer it all and how to spin it. This'll keep them busy for weeks on end.
Meanwhile, three time zones to the west, a press conference will be held today with Jerry Jones still trying to shake the painkiller cobwebs from hip surgery. Katie bar the doors, there's no telling what he just might say given his newfound spryness, a dang good football team, and his mood buoyed by a doctor's prescription and maybe a swig of something blue.
Thankfully, the good news is it won't matter much what Jerry says today. Cowboys camp, relatively speaking, won't generate much of a blip for a good while. Not even with the owner's giddiness, heavy expectations, a running back conundrum, the catch in Green Bay, Hardy's reentry, Romo's back, Lee's knee, Ro's drama, Mincey's holdout, Dez's contract details, and all that a typical Cowboys camp entails.
No, August won't happen in a vacuum, but by silver-and-blue standards, Oxnard should be a respite of peace and football harmony, perfect to study up and prepare for a successful autumn and winter of content.
Wheels can most definitely fall off, as football often does to paper champions and unfocused favorites. Injuries may derail it all. Last year's team chemistry must be rebuilt, and new players must emerge as expected. Yada, yada, we know all the pitfalls that qualify every team's hopes.
But I like the start to it all. Let the psychotic feeding frenzy continue a million miles away. Thanks for trashing that phone, Mr. Brady. Maybe we'll see you in northern California in six months if you can't make it October 11th.
So when's practice?
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