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.”
Four Square Miles of Noise 