In the words of Prussian Field Marshall Helmuth von Moltke the Elder, no battle plan ever survives first contact with the enemy. Dan Shaughnessy came in with a plan. And it couldn’t survive a single fucking question before it was destroyed against the walls of Belichick’s impenetrable fortress with its interlocking fields of fire. Your weapons are useless against him when he’s in mid-season form like this. Utterly useless.
The braying donkeys in the Boston media are going to be building a statue for Shank to celebrate his bravery and heroism on this. But let’s be clear about one thing. This was not about trying to get an answer. Shank knew goddamned well a series of evasive non-answers were coming, no matter how many times he rephrased the question. There was a 0.0 percent chance Belichick was going to share the thought processes of his beautiful football mind and everybody knew that. “Well, since you asked Dan … I simply wasn’t comfortable with Malcolm Butler’s level of preparation. He’d missed some practices. I felt good about Eric Rowe … blah blah blah.” This was about one thing and one thing only. Shaughnessy playing for the cameras to demonstrate his tough guy journo cred.
You know who never shows up to Patriots press conferences? Dan Shaughnessy. I can all but promise you this one met his quota for the 2018 season. I’m a blogger with a questionable work ethic who writes for a comedy site and I’ve been to probably a dozen this year already. Other guys go to every, single one like it’s their job. And if the Pats had made a defensive stop and beaten Philly, he wouldn’t have been within 20 miles of Foxboro. The Curly-Haired Boyfriend was there to grandstand, period. So he can go on The Sports Hub and pound his chest about he’s the one guy with the balls to speak truth to power. So he and all the other anti-Patriots jihadists can watch the video get played over and over on Pro Football Talk and PTI and pleasure themselves like bonobo monkeys at the thought one of their own had Belichick on the ropes. When the truth is there wasn’t a single punch landed.
Say you’d like an answer and I’m with you. If I could fire a blowgun loaded with Sodium Pentathol into his haunch and get him to open up about Butler, I would. But let’s not lie to each other that truth is what this was about. This was a guy who’s hated the Patriots ever since the Krafts didn’t invite him to some press breakfast trying to make himself the story, and nothing else. So long, Shank. See you in July of 2019.