Giants Co-owner Speaks Out About Team’s Playoff Outlook

Giants co-owner and part-time beet farmer, Dwight Kurt Schrute III, recently met with beat reporters, (pun intended), to discuss his team’s chances of sneaking into the playoffs as a wildcard entry.

“Bucs…Bears…blowin’ it for draft picks,” Schrute made his priorities clear to the team, his embattled coach Ben McAdoo, and anyone else in earshot of his satellite office in Scranton, PA.

“If I’ve learned anything in my many years as Assistant Regional Manager…”

“Assistant to the Regional Manager,” Jerry Reese perked his head up from behind his cubicle to correct his boss.

“I thought you don’t speak until the bye week,” Schrute countered with a scowl, then continued, “You can’t get your hopes up too high after one win. Let’s see if we are still playing ‘meaningful’ games in December. That’s my goal going into the season.”

“We need to prove ourselves every day. Competition is fierce from the Cowboys, the Eagles, the Falcons, the Packers and…”

“Don’t forget Staples and Office Depot,” Reese once again interjected.

“You really are a chatty fellow today, aren’t you? Anyway, my family is not a stranger to hardship. The Shrutes have always risen to the challenges before them and fought through the hardships of a violent league.”

When asked about the recent rash of injuries that have decimated the Giants’ receiving corps, Schrute was characteristically stoic and matter-of-fact with his response.

“Back in 1632, Frederick Tiberius Schrute shattered his leg falling from a stone outcropping while attempting to extract eggs from the nest of a Dodo bird. He managed to drag himself over to the nearby trees where he fashioned a cane and splint of small branches tied with vines he was able to gnaw through with his powerful jaws and teeth. Thus stabilized with his crude handiwork, F.T. Schrute navigated his way home and returned to the labors of beet farming.”

CBS Sports reporter Jim Rome rolled his eyes. “Mr. Schrute, this sounds a lot like the story you told us about your birth, when your father delivered you and your mother chewed through the umbilical cord. Aren’t we getting a bit off topic?”

“Well, it’s the truth…and the point is that we need to fight through our injuries and adversity. I fully expect Odell Beckham Jr. to be ready to play right after the bye week.”

Pat Leonard of the New York Daily News questioned the owner’s logic. “Isn’t that unrealistic Dwight?”

“Maybe Pat, but there is always Plan B,” Schrute conceded, “We tank and draft our quarterback of the future, Sam Darnold out of USC.”

Jerry Reese popped up out of his chair. His eyes surveyed the room like a bald-headed prairie dog.

“Hold on there, Dwight. I’m leaning toward the tight end out of Notre Dame. He’s a freak of nature!”

With that, the owner gestured with a dismissive backhand wave to his general manager and the reporters. “I think we’re done here.”





Redhead Quickie – Depression Era Series – Pt 3

Our featured poem from Langston Hughes is Homesick Blues. Home is not only where the heart is, and it isn’t always a physical location, but is a place where we are most our self. While this poem may not be my favorite, it is the one where I most relate to the speaker, who’s voice and words never leave me.

De railroad bridge’s
A sad song in de air.
De railroad bridge’s
A sad song in de air.
Ever time de trains pass
I wants to go somewhere.

I went down to de station.
Ma heart was in ma mouth.
Went down to de station.
Heart was in ma mouth.
Lookin’ for a box car
To roll me to de South.

Homesick blues, Lawd,
‘S a terrible thing to have.
Homesick blues is
A terrible thing to have.
To keep from cryin’
I opens ma mouth an’ laughs.

Once I settled on the poem and theme, selecting our featured redhead was simple. It had to be Judy Garland as Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. Her performance of Somewhere Over the Rainbow carries a message and emotions that are universal. This longing stretches across decades of music; Stephanie Mills’ Home, Subterranean Homesick Blues by Dylan, Carole King’s Home Again, and Home by Foo Fighters. During the Great Depression, home was the hope for a return to normalcy.

judy garland

“Over The Rainbow”
Harold Arlen, E. Harburg

Somewhere over the rainbow way up high
There’s a land that I heard of once in a lullaby
Somewhere over the rainbow skies are blue
And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true
Someday I’ll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far
Behind me
Where troubles melt like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops
That’s where you’ll find me
Somewhere over the rainbow bluebirds fly
Birds fly over the rainbow.
Why then, oh, why can’t I?
If happy little bluebirds fly
Beyond the rainbow.
Why, oh, why can’t I?

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