You wouldn't shoot a Red Sox player scarfing down a slice of New York-style pizza in the middle of Times Square. You don't pose Washington's quarterback decked out in a ten-gallon hat and cowboy boots in downtown Dallas. You don't let your high-school team's biggest rival's star pose for a picture with his arm draped around your homecoming queen on your 50-yard line.
You just don't antagonize sports fans like that.
But if you've flipped through the latest issue of GQ, you'll have to deal with the sight of the New England Patriots' Rob Gronkowski's bare ass partying its way through our fine city.
Yes, he's the guy who racked up 113 yards and a touchdown against the Dolphins' defense in an embarrassing rout last October. The guy who is increasingly the public face of a team whose domination of the AFC East has rendered the Dolphins utterly irrelevant for more than a decade. (Yes, save for that one season when Tom Brady was injured, but you already know that.) A team Dolphins fans hate so much that we don't even want to give it the satisfaction of letting it even think we now hate it more than the New York Jets.
Yet here's GQ providing the world with a pictorial of a star player of that sworn enemy partying at our pools, skinny dipping on our beaches, and jetting around on our speed boats. And he does it all alongside Victoria's Secret superbabe Hailey Clauson, just to rub it in.
They even got Gronk to take lessons from our beloved Miami City Ballet. They've got one of our cultural institutions literally providing the enemy with new techniques.
When Gronkowski pirouettes across the goal line to score on the Fins next season we'll know who to blame: Miami City Ballet.
We're not even sure Dolphins players have this much fun in Miami. (Not that they deserve it until they start winning.)
Let's not even remind ourselves that the Dolphins' last notable party boy was a squat rage toad whose idea of a good time was smashing Broward County strippers and then texting racial slurs to his friends the morning after.
But at least we can take solace in a few points:
1. The Greater Boston area is horrible and not even their star players want to spend any more time there than they contractually have to.
In the accompanying profile, Gronk admits to spending most of his off-time in Miami Beach (sleeping at his agent's apartment).
In fact, as much as it's a burn to see a Patriot living the good life in our backyard, it probably stings some Bostonians more.
Like, has anyone ever actually shot a fashion spread in the entire city's history? Do they know what fashion is there? Have they even hosted a good party since that one in the Harbor back in 1773?
No, probably not.
But that's OK, because ....
2. Boston sports fans are horrible.
As we're reminded in this portion of the profile while Gronk and his friends are dining at Prime One Twelve:
Just then a woman pulls back the curtain that separates our table from the restaurant. “Gronk!” she says. She can't get half the word out before we all hear it: Boston accent and a presumptive tone. “Can I get a picture with you, Gronk?”
Katz turns around: “Hey, listen, it's my birthday and I told my friend Rob that for my birthday I don't want him to leave the table. Tonight's a special night.”
“Well it's my birthday, too,” the woman says. “Come on, I'm from Boston. I'm a fan.”
“I'm sorry,” Katz says. “But my birthday wins.”
“No, my fuckin' birthday wins. I'm from Boston, you know.”
Basically, Boston is a whole city full of squat rage toads who fantasize about smashing Broward County strippers and then text messaging racial slurs to their friends the next morning.
3. The GQ Cover Curse is a thing.
Gronk was also recently announced as the cover athlete for Madden '17, and the Madden curse is well known. Numerous players who have appeared on the cover haven then experienced a disastrous season.
Less well known is the GQ cover curse. Dan Marino was an early example. He appeared on GQ's cover back in September '85 and then lost that year's Super Bowl. (Incidentally, that Marino cover was the best-selling issue of GQ of all time, who knew?) As ESPN explains, GQ's NFL cover boys are cursed with never winning a Super Bowl again (well, save for the most recent example of Cam Newton, but there are exceptions to every rule).
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Clearly, though, Gronk is tempting fate by appearing on both covers in the same year.
You know what that means? Obviously, Dolphins are shoo-ins for the AFC East championship this year.
Then it's only a matter of time until GQ features Ryan Tannehill on their cover experiencing the finest Boston has to offer (i.e., Ryan Tannehill sitting in Aunt Shiela's basement while drinking Natty Lite and talking shit about Jeter).