Tom Brady’s Inner Thought Process In His 16-13 Bending Over Of The Rams

Tom Brady does Tom Brady stuff again
Yup, him again

Yeah, yeah, the defense, team game, all that. Fine. But fuck that. Tom Brady somehow won this Revenge Bowl 16-13 with whatever offense he could make out of Flex Seal and Legos, in a game he HAD to win. The last 44 seconds for the Rams was like watching Michael Myers sit up after you were super sure he was finally dead this time for reals.

He’s back! Voldemort is back!

See, this game was a continuation of last year’s playoff battle against the Rams, where after being down 27-3 with an injury-riddled team, Brady led yet another historic 4th quarter comeback, only to be let down by his defense with seconds left in the game. It cost him winning back-to-back Super Bowls (if you think he would’ve lost to Cincinnati, you’re totally not addicted to crack) and retiring on top like he planned.

But it couldn’t end like that for the GOAT, who had just led the league in passing at age 44, because he couldn’t live with the L. So it cost him his marriage. Gisele finally figured out that Brady’s true love is football. Any woman was always just gonna be a side chick, even if she’s the mother of his children and hot as fuck.

Brady had to finish business with the Rams, at any price. Both teams were desperate, reeling. Seasons on the line, just like where they left off. Brady on the ropes. And then he just went all “Wrath of Khan” on everyone.

Let me translate Brady’s mind from start to finish of this game:

“Oh, hey, it’s the Rams everyone. I’ve been looking for you guys. Let’s do this, bitches.”

“Fuck, all I can get is 3 points. We suck. And by we I mean my taped-together offensive line, and my hobbled receivers who sometimes get the dropsies. Ahhhh, you guys. Silly knuckleheads. Oh yeah, and Aaron Donald is a creature from a nightmare I had where I tried to think of the perfect monster. So far, so good!”

“Great job defense, you guys are pitching a shutout… Oh, nice, we’re not winning anymore cause you just gave up a long throw to Cooper Cupp, just like last time. You know, the one that cost me back to back Super Bowls with a brand new team, plus a legendary ride off into the sunset, oh, and my marriage? Ahhhhhh, you guys! All good, guys, no worries. Thanks so much. No, really, I got this.”

“Is that little Matthew Stafford kid bothering you again? Well, don’t worry about him, I’m divorced now so he’s my bitch for today.”

“Okay, down 7-6 at halftime. Six points. Offense really firing on all cylinders, huh? Guess we’ll rally in the second half again? Cool, love it. I believe in all of you. Positive vibes. Let’s go win the the third quarter.”

“Okay, now we’re down 13-6 in the fourth quarter. Hey, six points is a lot in hockey. Thanks for balling out, everyone. So now we need a touchdown AND a field goal, right? Aces. Again, super job, everybody crushing it. And if we lose this one I’m super cool with it. You know me, totally not freakishly competitive.”

“Did I mention I crossed 100,000 career passing yards in this game, by the way? No biggie. They say no one ever remembers milestone games.”

“Okay, field goal first I guess, huh? You know what, totally a great idea, we’ll do the easy one first. Love it. Defense, you cool? Okay, great. No, no, I got this. So, 13-9 with how much time left? Sweet.”

“Okay, good job everyone, I have the ball in time for a game-winning drive, which is all I ever ask of anyone. Like I said, I got this.”

“Oh, cool, the game-winning touchdown throw I just made to Scotty Miller was dropped. At least it didn’t hit him in the face or anything. How much time is left? Really? Fuck, that kinda sucks, huh? Whatever, it’s cool. No, really. At least we’ll have a couple time-outs left when we get the ball back though, right? No? You’re right, fuck it, time-outs are for pussies. Let’s do this. How old am I again? Fuck it, not like I’m the age-is-just-a-number guy, right? Not like it’s my whole brand. Cool. Anyone wanna have dinner later? My treat.”

“And where do I have to play next week? Oh right, Germany. The first NFL game ever played there. That won’t fuck with my routine at all. And against a tough division-leading Seahawks team that’s been pissed off ever since I beat them in a Super Bowl. Easy win, right? We should always have this much fun.”

“Okay, 44 seconds left. We’ll need like 4 or 5 plays guys, and no fooling around this time you big sillies. Fuck it, you know I love everybody no matter what as long as we win. Here’s one for Cade Otton, whoever that is. And a couple for Scotty to redeem himself. Perfect. Now Mike Evans, you big stud, you go win it cause you had a rough day, buddy. Pass interference? Those fuckers. Okay, Otton guy, you do it.”

“Oh, I did leave nine seconds on the clock, but we’re cool everyone, right? I mean, none of that Miami crap from a few years ago with some crazy last second bullshit play, right? Ahhhhhh, you guys!”

“Oops, careful there… Aw, you knuckleheads. See you at the Steakhouse. Hey Rams, fuck you. And don’t forget I beat your ass in two Super Bowls while I was at it. You were calling yourselves a dynasty at the first one. Meant to ask you, how’d all that go?”

“Oh, so I’m tied for first again in the division? Whew, close one. This must be how James Bond always feels. I totally get those movies now. So good.”

It went something like that.

As always, thanks for playing!

+ posts