Last night we witnessed the death of a Barstool legend. The end of an era. The demise of one of the funniest, longest running jokes at Barstool Sports. Rest in Peace to Patrick McGillcuddy. Your watch has ended.
For those who don’t know the tale of Patty Mac, it dates back the better part of a decade now. The Rovell’s of the world dubbed him “Sign Kid” but the minute I locked eyes on his stupid fucking sign he became my mortal enemy and I referred to him as Patrick McGillicuddy. And year after year, season after season, we watched this fucker come out of his cave with another Boston logo crammed on to his sign and he took the city and the internet by storm. The whole allure of Patrick McGillicuddy was the idea that hes basically a goblin who lives in a cave and only comes out of hiding when theres a championship to celebrate. The folklore said he was an orphan, raised by wolves and Lombardi trophies. He lived under a bridge biding his time eating goats and other farm animals, leaving their carcasses behind while he created a new sign for the next parade which would inevitably only be a matter of months away.
When Parade Day arrived, the internet would wait on the edge of its seat for the first glimpse of McGillicuddy. Around 9, 10am pictures would start to roll in on twitter. People tagging me with a low res photo of a poster in the distance popping up above the sea of people. Grainy Zapruder film-esque video of a kid that looked like Patrick. Was it him? Is that Patrick?? People breaking it down like it was JFK’s assassination. Pictures of this preteen whipping the internet into a frenzy like he was Big Foot. We watched him grow from an 11 year old boy to an awkward teenager to almost a man during Boston’s Reign of Terror, and never once did his expression change. Never smiling. Never posing. All business. Just a kid, a sign, and another championship. It got to the point where I thought he was an actual Mutant who needed parades to survive.
And now, the whole joke is ruined. The Death of Patrick McGillicuddy, the rise of fucking Jason McKeon. Puke. No Boston accent. No Masshole vibe. Just an awkward kid and his dad selling out to do a sit down with NBC. We asked them to do the Barstool doc a few months ago and his dad declined and I understood. Kinda strange to expose your kid like that, hes still a young dude. But to then turn around and do it with NBC!? When Barstool was so pivotal in the exposure in the first place!?! Cmon Mr. McGillicuddy! Excuse me, Mr. McKeon. So yea, I’m salty that Barstool didnt land the first interview from the kid we turned into a legend. And yea, I’m sad that one of the best running jokes I’ve ever facilitated is now ruined.
But, its all good baby. Because this is the beginning of a new era. The dawn of a new day. The Jason McKeon Curse is upon us. Nothing has ever epitomized the change in the city of Boston more than McKeon. From lovable idiots to insufferable sore winners, Boston and McKeon got spoiled and super unlikable. And now with the McKeon family selling out, its a wrap for Boston sports. Not only did you touch the money early with this Stanley Cup, but you put out a shit ton of bad juju out into the universe. You spit in the face of Barstool. You refused to legally change your name to Patrick McGillicuddy. You ruined the best joke ever. And now you will pay the price. You’ll go down in history next to The Curse of the Bambino and Bucky Dent and Aaron Boone. You’ll rue the day you did this, Jason McKeon! RUE THE DAY!