Professor Albin Eberhart von Franz from Nosferatu Brought in to Give Jets Halftime Speech
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Jets Halftime Team Talks- After heading back into the tunnel at halftime down 38-3 to the middling Tampa Bay Buccaneers, the New York Jets have decided to enlist the help of occult scientist Professor Albin Eberhart von Franz, as played by Willem Defoe in Nosferatu, in order to help inspire a comeback.
*Jets’ interim head coach and well-known idiot Jeff Ulbrich addressing his sad excuse for a football team as they sit in front of their lockers. Many players have Gronk-spiked their helmets on the ground upon entry. All look defeated.*
“Listen up, gang. The way we are playing, no amount of mindset shifting or on-the-fly game plan changes are going to help us come back. Hell, I don’t even think there’s anything football-related that we can adjust. Which is why I’ve decided to bring in some outside help for this speech. Everyone welcome the strange, yet brilliant Dr. Albin Eberhart von Franz. Now I know what you are all thinking, so I’ll get ahead of your questions right now. No, bringing in a controversial paranormal scientist from 19th century Germany is not explicitly banned by the NFL. It exists in a legal gray zone, much like how the league handles domestic abuse and throwing one’s pregnant wife down the stairs. To clarify, it’s not nearly as serious as being caught smoking a joint to help with recovery after a game. And yes, I am aware that his methods are questionable, but they’re our best shot. Face it guys, we’re the goddamn Jets. Everyone welcome Dr. von Franz!”
*Players watch on silently as an older gentleman in a bespoke, gray three-piece suit and a top hat walks to the center of the room. He is clutching to his chest a giant codex of mystical secrets.*
“Sporting Jets of the York of New, I have been awaiting your call. I have seen things on this field that would make John Madden crawl back into his mothers’ womb. We are not so enlightened as we are blinded by the gaseous light of advances in nickel defensive packages and the spread offense. I have wrestled with the both the devil and his brother Bill Belichick as Jacob wrestled the angel in Penuel, and I tell you that if we are to tame darkness, we must first face that it exists!”
*Players are staring at the Dr. intently now. Some of them are nodding in approval. Their spirits seem to have been lifted. 2-time all-pro cornerback Sauce Gardner raises his hand to ask a question*
“Yes, Great Gardener of the Sauce Groves. What is it my dear boy? I command thee to speak!”
“But Dr. Von Franz, there is no Belichick devil across the sideline from us. What is this new evil that we are facing today?”
“We are here encountering the undead ball carrier, the gunslinger, the wildcard. Johnny Football himself, Johnny Manziel!”
*Players gasp. A chorus of whispers rustles through the room like a gust of wind on an Autumn day.*
“But Dr. von Franz. How is that possible? He has been out of the league for years now!”
“It appears as if Johnny’s spirit has consumed the host body of Baker Mayfield. He is weaving his shameful hedonistic lifestyle and improvisational football abilities into the blood of the Baker.”
“How are we to deal with this evil, Dr. von Franz?”
*Dr. von Franz opens up his leather-bound codex and flips to a marked page. He turns the book over to display it to the players*
“There exists but one way to rid the field of such a foul beast. A cold iron cleat spike through the heart!”
“No, Dr., you’re not suggesting that we…”
“Yes, yes I am.”
“You want us to…to, to pull an Ndomakung Suh?”
“Unfortunately, yes, my dear boy.”
“But won’t they banish me from the league if I commit such an act!?”
“No, my dearest Gardener. So long as you do not ingest the wicked green leaf of the marijuana plant, the league will turn a blind eye. You will receive a suspension of no more than two games for this quite heroic undertaking.”
“Got it, doc. But what if I go home after this and still beat up my pregnant wife and slam her head into the granite countertop, killing her and our unborn twins, how will the league punish me then?”
“Sauce, Sauce, Sauce. This is the NFL! Just don’t smoke weed and you’ll be fine. Now everyone put their hands in the middle. Can I get a ‘rid the vicious beast’ on three? One, two, three”
“RID THE VICIOUS BEAST!!!”
*Players are fired up. Dr. von Franz slaps each one on the ass as they head back out the tunnel for the second half.*
The Jets need all the help they can get, apparently.
I read all the way to the end. That's saying something, isn't it?
Lots of otherwise-good Substack posts are just too damn long. Leave 'em wanting more, that's what I always say.