O Captain, My Captain!

Hell. Mordor. Azkaban. Bannockburn. Normandy. The Inferno. Arby's.

I will follow Bill Belichick anywhere. I will do anything he asks of me. I will handle as many balls as I need to handle. In all my years of worshiping at the altar of this head coach, I don't know if I have ever been prouder of my Commander in Chief at any point. There is nobody else on the planet I would rather have leading this team, and if I ever needed any further proof of that, I just got it in spades.

Bill Belichick just gave the press conference to end all press conferences. He got up to the podium, stepped to the mic, dropped some knowledge, made a My Cousin Vinny reference, smacked down a few reporters, and stormed off into the night, where an entire locker room full of angry, determined warriors sit sharpening their teeth with files and methodically slamming their battle axes into their shields in rhythm. They will now turn to their general as he enters the room, stand as one, and prepare to unleash a hailstorm of unbridled fury onto the world.

I want to run through a brick wall right now. I want to charge head-first into the fray. I want to tackle the first small child I see. It's New England vs. the world, and if I was Seattle I'd be shaking just a little bit.

Edit: You can now watch the press conference in its entiry beauty: