An Open Letter To NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell


March 21, 2012
Roger “Adolf” Goodell
Office of the Commissioner
345 Park Avenue
New York, NY 10017


Mein Fuhrer,

That is how you address a fascist dictator, hell bent on authoritarian rule, correct? My name is Jonathan Bell. I am a 30 year old season ticket holder of the New Orleans Saints. You remember them, I assume, as you just got finished raping them. As you may have guessed by this point, I am disappointed in your personal handling of the situation. Chiefly, the one year suspension of our head coach Sean Payton. My goal with this letter is to explain to you why I feel your level of severity, with regards to the punishments, was foolish, misguided, and small sighted (considering the surface area of that head of yours). I must say, your Napoleon complex is startling when one ponders the size of your melon-like head. I digress. You see, I’m just trying to let you get to know me; to see this from a fan’s perspective… It looks completely different if not seen through your own owl-like eyes. I am a fan. I work hard, I spend more than I need to on my season tickets, and I try to leave the stress at home, every other Sunday, when I go to the Superdome to cheer on my team. I don’t sit in the sky boxes, and have my assistant bring me my tea, while I stare lovingly at Bill Belichick from afar, from the comfort of my commissioner’s throne made of blood diamonds, and the pelts of 1000 baby seals. That’s right. We have not forgotten Spygate. Remember that? When your old buddy Bill, and your friend-with-benefits Tom, actually CHEATED. That slap on the wrist you gave them was so soft and flaccid, it belonged in your pants. I guess you were just saving it for us. People called you soft in high school, and shoved you into lockers, so now, 85 years later, you finally get a chance to show those bastards! You are the parking lot security guard of professional athletics. To be honest, I think you’re better suited to the W.N.B.A. I don’t know if their top job is open, but I do know your vagina would fit in better there. Or perhaps you could see about a lateral move over to the United States Table Tennis Association. There, you’d never be too far from a paddle… in case someone needed to be punished. I mean, if you are that into sadism, I could make some calls and find some underground clubs for you in New York City. You wouldn’t have to fly to Thailand every offseason anymore!

Look, I know you are under a lot of stress. You are facing hundreds of concussion lawsuits, and you needed a scapegoat, ASAP, to make an example of… to show you’re really being proactive. And you chose us. Thanks. I’m just saying you were a little heavy handed. You kind of seemed like a drunk frat boy his second week of college. Perhaps you are a drunken frat boy, but I can assure you, you are not in college anymore. For heaven’s sake, your hairline is receding faster than the British at the Battle of New Orleans. Its, okay, you can google that. I know the only historical text you’re familiar is Mein Kampf. Sorry, that’s just not my cup of tea. Besides, I thought you got a little self-indulgent in Chapter 4.
At the end of the day, you have crippled us. The fans get to pay for a product that is not what was promised to us. You get to keep our money, inflate our prices, and deliver a sub-par product for the next couple of years. That’s not good business, and I know you know business. The greed is thick in you. Be careful you don’t keep fiddling, Nero. I know that every year you want it to be Brady vs. Manning. I get it. You THINK that’s what people want to see. It’s not. That’s what YOU want to see. Plus, that’s so 5 years ago, man. Hang it up. You keep trying to make us watch the same movie, over and over again. You’re like the George Lukas of the NFL. Only difference being George Lukas fans know ahead of time they are being raped. You like to spring it on people. Why not be creative? Your daydreams about pillowfights with Ed Hochuli don’t have to be the only time you use a little creativity. Why not suspend Payton for 4 games, strip his salary for the entire year, and donate it to the NFL Play 60 campaign in New Orleans, or the Boys and Girls Clubs? That way, the fans get what they paid for, Sean gets punished 8 million times, and you still look like the big, mean, abusive stepfather. As I am sure you love hearing from all of the NFL’s fans, I encourage my fellow Who Dats to write you at the above address (Park Avenue, classy), or call you at 212-450-2000.

I’ll wrap it up (Great advice by the way). I don’t want to take away any more of your time from your Faces of Death DVDs, or your Son of Sam coffee table book. I know you need ample time to stroke your Tom Brady action figures, and prance in your Bill Belichick autographed thong. Just remember, the Who Dat Nation is proud, no matter how much genocide you attempt to bring upon us. We have risen before, and we will again.

Your voiceless peasant,

Jonathan Bell

P.S. Next time, instead of worrying about defenders who want to tackle offensive players really hard, you could be more concerned with the number of attacks on opposing teams fans in many of your stadiums… or you could just keep fiddling.

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