Originally Posted by Kray007
If I’d told you, 3 weeks ago, that the guy in the black hoodie, stalking the sidelines like a miniature, brooding thunderhead would end up standing at the podium, smiling, and telling us how much he was looking forward to getting back on the field, most of us would have been thrilled. It was, absolutely, a positive development, and most of the media welcomed it.
Not Greg Doyel, though. He was bumhurt because Taylor wouldn’t tell him he hated the Colts, their owner, and the color of the grass on the playing field. He wouldn’t fess up and admit that he has plane reservations for a postseason pilgrimage to New Orleans, where he and his agent plan to hire a voodoo princess, sacrifice a chicken, and drive pins into dolls of Chris Ballard and Jim Irsay.
Is it possible that Taylor plays out the string in Indy and heads off to greener pastures? Sure, but at no point in his press conference did he tell us that he’s closed the door on coming back…even if, as Doyel did, you read between the lines.
Doyel is an incendiarist, a media arsonist who gets his jollies out of digging under rocks, looking for the dark side of sports. He’s the guy who pulls your kid aside in the line to see Santa and whispers fake in his ear. He’s the fellow who shows up at birthday parties and steals candles off the cake, the nasty old man who screams at kids for kicking their ball into his yard, the crank who complains because the 4th of July fireworks show is too loud.
He might be right, and if he is, he’ll rejoice in it. Then, he’ll take a deep breath before telling us that Anthony Richardson hates puppies, kittens, and butterflies.
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