Utterly Without Shame, Roger Goodell Calls Tom Brady 'the Greatest Player Ever to Play the Game'

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There are few scheduled events that every year, absolutely without fail, set you on edge. Those annual exercises in frustration that you know are coming, and yet are impossible to steel yourself for, no matter how hard you try to gird you loins. Dental cleanings, maybe. That part of your physical where the doctor squeezes your nads. Those State of the Whatever addresses that preempt "Jeopardy!" Maybe some holiday that your relatives choose to ruin because it's a tradition. Tax Day, if you're not getting a refund. Whatever. It's different for everybody, but we all have them. 

But one event that forces all decent, right thinking people to grind their teeth down the nub with universally shared frustration is the Super Bowl Week Thursday press conference from Roger Goodell. Typically you can count on this droid to go into his preprogrammed Commissionerbot 3000 mode, droning on in his expressionless, Siri-like monotone about how super swell he's doing. Deflecting a question about some matter of actual importance by peppering his non-answers with prepared buzzwords like "process" and "do better" and talking about how much other people's money he's thrown around to make the problem go away. Only to then take questions from some plants in the audience to underhand toss some Nerf balls at him. Like the British guy who asked him how it's possible his wonderful came can be so extraordinarily popular across the pond. Or the little girl who asked if she could be in the NFL someday. (His shocking answer: "Yes.") 

Well today's was no exception. Despite the obviously new set up:

… or maybe because of it, Ginger Satan didn't find the fifth columnists assigned to ask him arranged questions about how gosh darn good he is at his job before Ben Volin of the Globe got to shoot his shot. 

God bless him. Ben Trollin' isn't for everybody. But I actually do appreciate the guy. Especially at a time like this. I have an affinity for super awkward social interactions. And asking Der Kommissar about Brady's Deflategate punishment seven years after the alleged footballs were allegedly deflated, six years after the league was supposed to crack down on such shenanigans, measure the PSI of game balls and release the results, and five years after Brady was suspended, is the height of awkwardness. Especially with Brady ruining Goodell's party for the fifth time in those seven years. So good on Volin.

Unfortunately, no one's Awkwardness Karate can defeat Ginger Satan's Deflection Jiu Jitsu. Of course wasn't going to admit it was all a shame. That he presided over a multi-million dollar, junk science witch trial that destroyed the reputation of the very guy who should have been the face of the league for the last 20 years. And who has continued to win more than ever, despite the fact all game balls are supposedly kept in a bank vault surrounded by armed guards. That would take humanity. It would take regret. It would take shame. None of which this feckless, dickless automoton possesses. Instead, he fixed that lie hole he calls a mouth to spew this word soup of irrelevant nonsense:

“You know, Tom Brady has shown that he is probably the greatest player to ever play this game. His leadership, his ability to rise to the big occasions and make everybody rise around him– that’s what’s absolutely incredible to me. Everyone just plays better when they’re with him. And so he’s an exceptional talent. But more importantly, he’s one of the great guys. I’ve known him for probably 15 years, and he’s an extraordinary guy. He’s just, he’s real and he cares about this game, deeply. He cares about the people involved with the game. And so for me, I wish them well. I think he’s gonna continue to be a great performer. I’m glad to hear he’s gonna play a few more years.”

Just up. Just shut the fuck up. His name is poison on your thin lips. Never speak it again, you asswipe. You're not allowed. Speaking that man's name is a privilege you are not allowed to enjoy. Next time you're forced to, use a code. Call him No. 12. Or The Quarterback. Or replace it with the name of some historical figure. I'm partial to Celtic warrior king Vercingetorix. But you lost the right to ever utter his name when you turned him into a laughingstock while defending wife beaters and child abusers and dog killers and corrupt, racist billionaire owners. And especially you are not allowed to talk about how much he cares about the game, when you yourself insisted he didn't. Take a history lesson, you slimy piece of shit. Then fuck all the way off.