Yo,Snowflakes. Quit preaching. The Violent World of Sam Huff sold NFL football to the masses. The Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders gave us a little sex with our violence. Deal with it!
— Brent Musburger (@brentmusburger) December 6, 2017
Dammit you have to love Brent Musburger. They’d barely scraped the corpses off the field after a Pittsburgh-Cincinnati game that looked like the battlefield after Antietam. The whole country is decrying the Rob Gronkowski for giving the People’s Elbow to Tre’Davious White and nearly putting him into assisted living. Roger Goodell is suspending guys until his suspending hand gets carpal tunnel. And Brent is inventing new fucks not to give.
That is how you do it, fellas. That is how you hit your golden years. Musburger is exactly the kind of 78-year-old we should all aspire to be. Brutally honest. A guy who’s willing to admit men are wired to want our football served with extra violence and helping of sex on the side:
Brent is a product of that Mad Men era where you wanted your sports violent, your cheerleaders sexy, and where you made million dollar deals over a steak and a bourbon at lunch, then went back to the office and banged your secretary. A world with guys like Sam Huff and Bronko Nagurski, snapping necks and cashing checks. Where helmet-to-helmet hits were what kept you employed so you didn’t have to knock on doors selling life insurance all summer. Where men were men and the only concussion protocol involved smelling salts and getting back in before anyone could call you a pussy And just because you’re surrounded by a blizzard of snowflakes in 2017 is no goddamned reason to change who you are or start telling them the things they want to hear. And if ABC doesn’t like it, they can kiss his Greatest Generation ass. Goddamn, you have to respect that. Don’t you ever go changing on me, Brent Musburger.