It had been a long day for Jaguars quarterback Blaine Gabbert on Sunday. After a game against the Vikings where he looked almost respectable, his latest tilt against the Texans' "Bulls On Parade" defense proved to be too much for him. In particular, the defensive stylings of defensive end J.J. Watt made the life of the second-year player a living hell.
In the end, it proved to be too much for him, as we have recently learned that Gabbert has been admitted to a mental institution where, according to his coaches, he can get some much needed rest and improve his skills under center. Whether he can improve is a matter of some conjecture and, in many cases, laughter.
The announcement came late Tuesday evening in a press conference where the media presence was considerably smaller than the number of combined known and theoretical Jaguars fans worldwide (4). Jaguars head coach Mike Mularkey had some pointed comments about the quarterback's setbacks.
"It's all that Watt kid's fault! We told [Gabbert] that the defense would play nice with him and that if he got through the entire game, we'd go out for ice cream. We warned the Texans that he needed his confidence bolstered and that they should go easy on him, like the Vikings did. They're just plain filthy players."
Watt had a particularly good game against Jacksonville Sunday, hence being fingered semi-publicly by Mularkey. He had 1.5 sacks, five tackles (two for a loss of yards), and two passes deflected. Mularkey later went on to say it was the passes he knocked down that got to him worst.
"After the game ended," Mularkey stated, "He just kept muttering 'he just won't stop...he won't stop,' then broke into tears."
By itself, it hardly seemed like the end of the world, but in the next couple of days, things simply spiraled out of control for Gabbert.
"When he arrived," said Dr. Thelonius Spongg of St. Ralph's Home For The Terminally Mediocre, "Mr. Gabbert was in a terrible state. All he would do was rock back and forth and sing discordant songs from 'The Wizard of Oz, and every seven seconds he'd shake, look around the room nervously, point at the wall and whimper 'Not again.' "
As he said this, a violent scream pierced the eerie silence.
"That's our rehab facility. We've just begun experimenting with electroshock therapy and may try it on Mr. Gabbert," he said as he turned and looked into the room where the scream came from. "You're doing very well, Mr. Leaf!"
We were allowed to speak to Gabbert on the condition that we didn't agitate him any more than he already was and not utter the words "Brian Cushing" in his presence, on account of it making it harder to slip the straight jacket on him.
"He's everywhere. Everywhere I see. I turn one way, there's J.J., I look down the hall, there's Watt wagging that damn finger at me again. An hour ago I swore I heard him whisper 'you-hoo' in my ear. Oh God, here he comes again! Protect me," screamed Gabbert as he curled up into a ball, like an exceptionally frightened hedgehog. Spongg rushed over and placed a calming hand on Gabbert's haunch, and whispered that everything would be okay, while indicating the heavy-duty straight jacket on the wall to his assistant.
When he heard that he was partially responsible for putting Gabbert in the looney bin, J.J. Watt felt nothing but sympathy for the panicky quarterback, "If I had any part in turning Blaine's psyche into lime jello (ed. note: which is on the menu for Gabbert's first night at St. Ralph's), then I'm sorry it happened to him and I hope he has a speedy recovery," Watt gave a wry smile. "And that he's able to come back before the middle of November."