By Adam Hart
Wednesday Jan. 12, 2011
The chicken has come home to roost. And it smells expletive delicious.
I got a player twitting or whatever it is, someone else calling Tom Brady a expletive and another leaking game plans. Good. They're finally approaching my level.
The media'll cry about it all, say we're stoking the fire. Found out that last one from that expletive Michael Kay:
"He said to me off the air, he said, 'We know exactly what we did wrong.' He said, 'And if we ever play them again, I'm telling you that we're going to win.' He said, 'Because what we should have been done sic was funneling them in toward the middle of the field and we weren't doing that.'"
He said this, he said that. I say, "See ya!"
Like, doesn't anybody get it? I don't give two expletive what my guys say. I'm not over here criticizing Michael Kay for pronouncing the 'd' in ARod's last name like a 'j'? So maybe take care of that first, expletive, then think about blasting our style.
It's not just him, though. All these media expletive keep asking if I'm mad, if I'll punish my players. For what?! They're doing what they want; why should I expletive with that? It's all part of what I've been teaching them since training camp: my guys can do whatever they want, whenever they want -- touchdowns, interceptions, Super Bowls, meeting new lady friends.
Like, when I want a expletive snack, I get a expletive snack. When Revis wants an interception, he makes an interception. When Cromartie wants to call Tom Brady an expletive, he calls him an expletive.
Only one resisting right now is Nacho. When Nacho wants to throw a touchdown pass, Nacho throws a expletive pick. What the expletive, man? He's softer than my wife's beautiful feet . . . Ah, not even thinking about those little piggies can cheer me up. Nacho's a bust. A BUST!
. . . Sorry to get all angry there, Diary, but the media's really harshing my mellow.