Friday, December 27, 2019

Resolution time!

And now, as we resume Blobbish activities after a couple of days of festive-ing ("I KNEW it couldn't last," you're moaning), it's time to look ahead to a new year, a new decade, a new  chance to wipe the slate clean, turn the page, make solemn vows to be a better, thinner, more spiritually elevated you..

Or, you know, just say "Ah, crap, it's January again."

In any case, this is the time of year when those of us who love to set ourselves up for failure sit down to make New Year's resolutions.

 New Year's resolutions are the best kind of resolutions, because they don't actually ever resolve anything (or hardly ever). Plus, if you break them, there's no real punishment. No one's going to clap you in irons or garnish your wages or make you run laps if you fudge on your New Year's resolution to run laps in 2020. There'll be a momentary twinge of remorse, and then it's on to the dessert you resolved to cut out in the new year.

In this spirit, the Blob presents, not its resolutions, but the resolutions some folks in the sporting world might make before shamelessly break them two or three days in:

"I resolve not to even LOOK at another quarterback, even though Tom's kinda gettin' up there and losing his looks and, you know, not really the Trophy Quarterback he used to be." (Bill Belichick)

"I resolve not to even LOOK at another team, even though Bill's eye is wondering and the magic is gone and I just know he's tomcatting around for his next Trophy Quarterback." (Tom Brady)

"I resolve to hire me a new, sexy flavor-of-the-month coach and then stay out of his busin-- ooh, look! A sexy flavor-of-the-month quarterback! Let's draft him!" (Jerry Jones)

"I resolve not to work for Jerry Jones ever, ever ev-- ooh, look! It's the Cowboys!" (Jerry's next hire)

"I resolve never to recruit another one-and-do-- ooh, look! It's the next LeBron James/Kevin Durant/Zion Williamson!" (Every upwardly-mobile college basketball coach in America)

And last but not least ...

"I resolve not to subject Blobophiles to more pointless posts about my crummy Pittsburgh Pir-- dammit! Why did they ever get rid of Gerrit Cole?" (The Blob)

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