Sean Strickland Goes Hard in the Paint on 'Fucking Pussy' Tom Brady

By now I think the whole world has caught onto Sean Strickland's act. The whole, "The only thing more dangerous than my fists is my mouth" niche he's carved out for himself. He's firmly established a reputation as a loose cannon who's going to say whatever he wants, even if it's to take aim at the pure good that is the love of a man and a dog:

Strickland's "Hey man, I'm just spittin' truth here and I don't care what anyone thinks, I'm just gonna keep being me" tough guy routine is a carefully crafted persona that has made an otherwise above average (28-6 career record) Middleweight one of the most recognizable names in UFC.

And more power to him. Playing the heel has always been a huge part of combat sports. No less a figure than Muhammad Ali said that early on in his career, he figured out the marketing power of coming across as an arrogant, mouthy egomaniac. Because the more people hate you, the more they'll pay hoping to see you get destroyed in the ring. So we can all respect Strickland carrying on in that tradition. It's good for the sport. 

But this time, he's gone too far:

Let's get something straight here, shall we? I can take someone ripping the things that are important to me. I'm a big believer that sacred cows make the best hamburger. You want to go on a hate-filled, spiteful rant against me, my country, my religion, my friends and family, my city, my teams, my boss of 20 years and his love of his dog, we're big enough to handle it. 

By all that is holy, you put respect in your mouth when you speak of Tom Brady. Or you've made very powerful enemy, my friend. 

Sean Strickland dares to question the GOAT's manhood? His toughness? To call him a "fucking pussy" and "cunt" and compare him to "fucking girl"? Say what you will about those other things. But to borrow a line from Merle Haggard, when you're running down my quarterback, Hoss, you're walking on the fighting side of me.

Tom Brady's the pussy, Strickland? It's one thing to be a hardo when you're in an octagon with a guy in your weight class and a referee to keep you safe. Let's see how long your 6-foot-1, 185-pound ass would last in the Demolition Derby that is an NFL pocket. With 330 pound tackles and 285 pound defensive ends coming at you from all sides like Ninjas trying to destroy you from the blind side like it's their job. Because it is. In his 381 career games Brady took more hits than all the MMA fighters who have ever lived. All the way up to age 45, when your average UFC guy is a client of Visiting Angels. And in his 23 seasons on the job, the only times he missed as much as a snap due to injury was half of the 2001 AFC championship game, and the 2008 season when he had his knee basically removed from his body by the Angel of Death, Bernard Pollard. Other than those two times, he pushed through the pain, toughed it out, and excelled. He once almost lost the thumb on his throwing hand in practice and then proceeded to throw two 4th quarter touchdowns in the AFC championship to beat the best defense in the league, for fuck's sake. Tell me you don't like Brady. Tell me you don't like his game. Tell me you don't like the roast. Tell me you don't like his fucking necktie. Just don't try and tell me you don't like his rugged, stoic, All-American manliness. 

Or else. Or else your next fight will be with a guy who's twice your age and half your size and who hasn't been in an actual physical brawl since 3rd grade. But to defend Tom Brady's honor, I'll make an exception for Sean Strickland. We Patriots for life stick together.