Dear Adalius,
I’d like to begin this letter with something that is more than likely an uncommon occurrence for you these days – thanks for your efforts over the past three years. That’s right, thanks. I know that’s a bit unusual considering that you had as many tackles this year – a year in which you were healthy as a horse (and almost as heavy) – as you did in the previous year when you broke your arm and missed just under half the season, but somebody has to do it. After all, if it weren’t for you stealing money from the Patriots over the past three years, then perhaps there’s a chance the Pats would go out and sign yet another big-money free agent linebacker this coming year. But no longer. Your combination of sloth and bad karma, I believe, has finally made the team see the light, and for that, I am thankful.
Perhaps I’m not the best person to judge your performance in 2009 since I wasn’t able to see you play extensively. See, that’s what happens when you watch the games from home – the camera tends to linger around the ball, a technique which all but rendered you invisible. As a matter of fact, I had to go look up your stats just to be sure you actually played at all. Luckily, the twin-headed disappointments of Derrick Burgess and Ron Brace did wonders in disguising your lack of impact this year, which was a pretty good break for you. Had it not been for those two vacuous sucking bags of suck, then perhaps more people would’ve taken note that you were about as useful as the cast of Jersey Shore at a MENSA convention. Surely, there’s some explanation, no?
“I was used totally different this year than I was last year before I broke my arm. And even last year, before I came back, I was told that I was going to be used differently. And so with that being the case, I don’t know if that’s really how you do it. … It was the play of the Buffalo game, whether or not it was sufficient. I really didn’t understand it. I didn’t understand, it was the first game back, the way some stuff went down.’’
You see, they asked me to go and tackle the guy with the ball, which is, you know, completely different from what they were asking me to do before when they told me to go and tackle the guy with the ball… I don’t mean to minimize the difference in positions or roles in what is more than likely a rather complex defensive scheme, but really – how different could this possibly be? It’s not like they were asking you to play nickelback or something – just move a couple yards to one side. This has never happened before? You’ve never been asked to do anything different – at all – in your entire professional or collegiate career? Instead of a professional football player being paid millions of dollars, you’re acting like Rainman when someone tries to change the channel away from Wapner. And worse yet, you act as though this was a spur-of-the-moment thing, as though the coaches came to you two minutes prior to kickoff and asked you to fill in. You had all training camp to figure this stuff out. Guess what? This is what happens when you make $7 million per year.
Then there was that little incident where you got sent home from practice for being late. But I suppose there’s some sort of excuse for that too, right?
“I think losing and winning has a lot to do with it,’’ Thomas said. “If we’d won that previous week, that wouldn’t have been an issue. When you do something like that, it’s hard to keep that, because then it happens again, you have to send somebody else home. That wasn’t the case. And so then, you question that.’’
No, actually you don’t have to question it because you played so badly this year that on a team desperate for linebackers, the team decided it was better off with you on the bench rather than dressing. Twice. Maybe it was because you were late, maybe it was simply because you stunk out loud this year. Ever consider that?
In closing, I’d like to encourage you to run back home to Rex and hopefully, he’ll take you back with welcoming (flabby, but welcoming) arms and all will be well with the universe again. You can have fun and indulge in his after-practice buffet. Perhaps you can exchange cookie recipes. Either way, it’s nice that your Katzenmoyer-esque lack of impact for the team has finally cured them of the free agent linebacker signing. As a fan, I can kick back and relax, safe in the knowledge that Belichick and the Patriots would be certifiably insane to give out big money for another free agent whose team is not at all sad to see rid off into the distance.
Hugs and kisses,
Todd
