Keeping to my pledge, I have yet to watch a single NFL game ... either on Sunday, Monday night or Thursday night ... and, you know what? ... I am beginning to know how to get along without this machismo palliative. I've gone cold turkey with my quixotic protest. Yes, I do Google the results of the Patriots' game after the fact ... but I no longer hang on Brady's passing performance (sorry Tom) or Gronk's receptions! And I have invested enough negative emotion so that I now intend to keep this up until Roger Goodell himself takes a knee and comes down hard on these anthem protesters. These highly-paid jocklets need to realize from whence their pay checks come and learn that any gripes they have need to be settled in a more patriotic way.
If these crybabies insist on pissing on my flag, I, along with millions of other Americans, will piss on their hyper-inflated egos feed by their hyper-inflated pay checks. And, if they don't like our protests, then I suggest they volunteer for military service for a few years to understand what this meta-game is all about. The risk in this superior bowl involves their lives ... not just their ACLs.
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