CALL ME SNAKE

My Tedy Bruschi suffered a terrible fate at the hands of my two-year-old, who has always been a little rough around the edges. (As well as rough around the front, back, sides, top, and bottom.) Decapitation is not too strong a term to describe what happened to my bobblehead Tedy doll. Which leaves me in a veritable pickle: The stores are all sold out. And I’ve got a full tank of gas already in my car so I can’t get a Bobblehead Tedy at the local Exxon, assuming they have any left (which is doubtful, since he was named to the Pro Bowl this week, though people should not have needed that to realize he’s the real deal, despite his travails with alcohol, which when you think of it, might make him even more than real deal than ever). (Sorry about the long parenthetical. I’ve got to stop speaking that way, indirectly, in asides and digressions, with everything hidden behind parentheses and nothing upfront, in the open, for all to see, warts and all…) So can somebody please loan me a Tedy, ASAP? I’ll pay a good price, if necessary, though I don’t support extortion as a general rule. I need to field a full team for my practice sessions, which is why Bobblehead T.B., a lynchpin of my defensive schemes, is so crucial. With all the players lined up, I test out different plays and formations, sending the best ideas on to Coach Belichick. I can’t say for certain that he uses them, but a few moves during actual games sure look familiar to me. While I’m thinking of it, I’d like to take this opportunity to give Philly the heads up: I’ve got a few doozies lined up for Super Sunday. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Caveat puntor.