Grumpy old writer weighs in on baseball, James, Brady

Grumpy old writer weighs in on baseball, James, Brady

It is time to take a break from all this downer coronavirus talk and check in with the grumpy old writer.

He likes the way things were back in his day, when he had to walk to school, up hill both ways, and a defensive lineman was allowed to tackle a quarterback.

Without further ado, here is the grumpy old writer:

What is with this 60-game baseball season? Can we stop pretending that is a real season already?

Calling a 60-game schedule a real baseball season would be like the NFL playing six games. That is simply not enough.

Through 60 games in 2019, the Washington Nationals were in fourth place in the National League East, a full game behind the lowly New York Mets at 27-33.

Luckily for the nationals, they still had 102 games to play. They went 66-36 over that stretch, and they rode the hot streak all the way to a World Series title.

In the 60 games of the fake season of 2020, the Boston Red Sox went an abysmal 24-36. As bad as the historically-bad Red Sox were, they were only three games behind the pace of the 2019 Nationals.

Of course, this year’s Red Sox were not about to play .650 baseball over the next 102 games. Nobody really expected them to play .400 ball.

Some team would have made a run, though, in a sport that is supposed to last six months. You do not see the Boston Marathon shortening the race to a 5K and declaring a winner.

If the Yankees would have won the World Series this year, would they have compared it to the 1996 championship team? Would they have compared it to 1978? Would they have compared it to any of their titles that happened so, so long ago?

Not a chance. That is because even Yankees fans know that 60 games do not make a season.

You cannot get an MVP in 60 games. Giving the Cy Young to a pitcher with eight wins is insulting to Cy young.

Playing a World Series after 60 games is insulting to the world.

Can we please get over this whole nonsense that LeBron James is the greatest basketball player of all-time?

People who make such a claim should be forced to write a 10,000-word report on each of the 10 episodes of “The Last Dance.”

Sure, James is a great player who is definitely worthy to be in the conversation when talking about the greatest of all time. But give me Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Larry Bird or Bill Russell any day of the week.

James would definitely be a member of the NBA’ all-time team. But he might come off the bench.

When it is all said and done, the lasting legacy of James will be the pile-on teams, not his championships.

After losing to the Lakers in 1985, Bird did not call up Johnson and say “Hey, Magic, let’s play on the same team next year.” No, Bird worked harder and won the title in 1986.

Granted, free agency has changed the game since then. But image how bad it would have stunk if instead of having a great rivalry with players like Isaiah Thomas and Charles Barkley, Jordan would have gone to Miami to play with them?

LeBron might not have invented the pile-on teams that have ruined what was left of the NBA, but he took advantage of them like nobody else.

That is not the kind of behavior we expect from GOATs.

Speaking of so-called GOATs, can we please get over this whole nonsense that Tom Brady is the greatest quarterback of all-time?

Again, Brady is in the conversation when it comes to discussing the greatest. But for some reason, it has become the general consensus that Brady is unquestionably the GOAT. That simply is not true.

Give me Joe Montana, Dan Marino, John Elway, Johnny Unitas and, for my grandpa Jerry’s sake, Bart Starr any day.

Yes, Brady has six Super Bowl rings, and that cannot be overlooked. But if Bill Belichick and the Patriots had Aaron Rodgers, New England would have won at least 12 Super Bowl titles over the last 15 years.

Brady is also one of the main reasons the league no longer lets defenders look cross-eyed at a quarterback any more. As the Bears proved again last week, bumping into Brady more than a couple of times in a game is like throwing water on the Wicket Witch of the West.

If he had to take one hit from Lawrence Taylor, he’d quit the game.

Also, Brady plays in an era when defensive backs are not allowed to touch receivers. If Marino played under those rules, he would have passed for 5 million yards. In 1984 alone.

Sure, I probably sound like Mick Delaney telling me that Bob O’Billovich and his Bulldogs would wax Gary Kane and his with ease. Everybody thinks the players of their era are the best.

The only difference is that I am right.

A strong argument can be made that Brady, while very good, has been a product of the New England system. Such an argument would never even been hinted at about a player who is truly the GOAT.

Also, can we all finally admit Brady is a boob?

Like he did when he lost the Super Bowl to the Eagles, Brady left the field without congratulating my cousin Nick Foles after last week’s loss to the Bears.

OK, so Foles is not a relative, but I have been on the receiving end of some hate tweets that Eagles fans thought they were sending to the quarterback. So, that has to mean something, right?

Brady seemed like an All-American kid when he upset the Rams in the Super Bowl following the 2001 season. It turns out, however, that he is the phony he portrayed himself out to be in a 2006 episode of Family Guy.

Do not let those canned, fake interviews with Jim Gray fool you. Brady points fingers at teammates when things go wrong, whether it is a holding penalty or him forgetting what down it is. He really is the kind of guy who would trade Peter to the London Silly Nannies.

Foles looked around for Brady after both of his wins against Brady, but Tom Terrific was nowhere to be seen either time. That is because Brady ran crying to the locker room before the clock struck zero.

You cannot use the coronavirus as an excuse for last week, either.

Four days earlier, Brady held an Elizabeth Warren selfie line to greet every member of the Los Angeles Chargers after a come-from-behind win. So, he could not even give Foles a wink and a nod for across the field?

It was not Foles’ fault that Brady played like a Silly Nanny on Thursday night.

Anybody can be classy when they win. True colors are exposed in a loss, and Brady’s colors are definitely not becoming of a GOAT.

Joe Montana, Dan Marino, John Elway, Johnny Unitas and Bart Starr were, for the most part, classy in victory and defeat.

Just like LeBron James and fake baseball seasons, Brady never would have lasted in their day. No pretty boys ever did.

That’s the way it was, and we liked it.

— Bill Foley, who cannot wait for the next Foles reunion, writes a column that usually appears Tuesdays on Email him at Follow him at

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