The NFL is teeming with barbaric initiation rituals. It's like Animal House, only with whey protein shots instead of keg stands. There's the classic rookie dinner bill and the new-guy-carrying-helmets-to-practice schtick. There's whatever the hell goes on behind closed doors at Foxborough High Command. But no rite of passage, time-honored tradition, or vaguely Satanic ceremony is as deeply disturbing as that which Mike McCarthy had to endure before becoming the latest future ex-head coach of the Dallas Cowboys. Schefty with the unsettling scoop as always:
That, folks, is one long, sleepless night at Chateau Jerry, where every squeak in the floorboards sends shivers up your spine and the butler warns you, no matter what you do, to NEVER enter the east wing after midnight. Some Halo- and Mountain Dew-fueled slumber party this wasn't. It was a trial by literal fire. A run of actual gauntlets. It's like that Adam Brody movie that came out last year where in order to marry into the family, you have to survive an entire night in their mansion while they hunt you down with crossbows and axes. It's like "Hotel California." You can checkout any time you like, but you can never leave.
So kudos for the resilience and resourcefulness, Big Mike. Rumor has it Marvin Lewis didn't even make it out of the hedge maze. Go take a long, hot shower and pour yourself a drink. You survived the night at JerryWorld. Now the real horror begins.