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I Know What You're Wondering, And The Answer Is Yes, I Have Taped You Masturbating

Welcome to the Deadspin Guest Lecture Series. Each week, we'll be inviting various luminaries from the world of sports - players, coaches, broadcasters, and MORE! - to speak to you Deadspin folks. This week: Former Patriots assistant and eye of the Spygate maelstrom, Matt Walsh.

My name is Matt Walsh. For seven years, I was employed by the New England Patriots as a PR intern, a video assistant and, later, a college scout. I was never a "coach", so to speak. Instead, I was one of the myriad anonymous employees who performed several basic tasks that helped the coaching staff develop and execute their game plans. That primarily included videotaping.


The Patriots, as you may have guessed, employ more of this type of assistant than any other team in the NFL. There were over 500 of us working out of the main branch office in Foxborough. And there were at least 236 video assistants each at the team's satellite offices in Miami, New York, Indianapolis, Buffalo, San Diego, Green Bay, Guadalajara, and, well... you get the picture. This, of course, is why Coach Belichick has said he's never heard of me. He's right. He barely knows any of the team's 40,000-person workforce.

In fact, next to the United States government, the New England Patriots are the second largest employer in the nation, having recently overtaken General Motors. And, in some cases, the Patriots have been contracted by the government to do video surveillance on their behalf. In certain cases, it's hard to know just where the Patriots begin and the National Security Agency ends. It may surprise you to know that only 1 percent of the Patriots' revenue is derived from football-related businesses. The rest is income derived from subcontracting agreements they have with the Pentagon, Beijing and various business conglomerates.


Spying isn't just a tactical advantage for this team. It's their very reason for being. The football is just a convenient, high-profile front. The spying isn't a means to an end. It IS the end. Do you really think the Patriots would launch high-powered optical satellites (satellites with over 100 times the viewing resolution of the Hubble Space Telescope) into orbit just so they can win a lousy football game?

Oh, you are so naïve.

Coach Belichick has long believed that, in order to gain an advantage over opposing players and/or Tiananmen Square street protestors, you must study their entire social orbit. That means spying not just on them, but the people they know, and the people they know, and the people they know, and the people they know, and the people they know.


That means YOU.

Oh, we've been watching you, all right. I've got an entire shipping container just for your reels alone. I even have you up on the monitor right now. Here you are:


Look familiar? I bet it does. I know you better than you know yourself. You sit there all day, only leaving the computer to take a shit or get a new Pepsi from the fridge. You haven't had a meal with proper company in over a month. You stay up late at night constantly refreshing this page, hoping against all hope that the "at" symbol followed by your screen name will pop up in someone else's comment, giving you the slightest glimpse of hope that you are not quite so alone in this world.

You keep meaning to get out when it's nice outside but just can't bring yourself to do it. You haven't taken out the garbage or washed a dish in over a year. You have a framed Big Lebowski poster over in the corner that you were too goddamn lazy to actually hang on the wall. You like to get shitfaced by yourself on those big Bud cans. Not the 18 oz, tall boys, but the fucking huge 24 oz. fuckers. While drunk, you like to sing along to old 80's hits. Scandal seems to be your fave. Shootin' at the walls of heartache, BANG BANG!


The calendar of yours up there? Blank.

See? I know you. I know that makes you a bit uncomfortable. You didn't think that Lives Of Others movie could happen here, did you? Sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings. We wired every inch of that one-bedroom apartment. A rat couldn't move two inches in your crawlspace without clotheslining himself. Your sister let me grope her boobies in the back of a Town Car just so I wouldn't let anyone know you own Four Weddings And A Funeral on DVD. You don't make a single move without me or the Kraft family knowing about it.


So I know what you're wondering. And the answer is yes, I have taped you masturbating. On several occasions. Even today. I may not work for the Pats anymore, but I still get the live feeds on my Dell. Before you even brushed your teeth or put in your contacts this morning, you fired up the laptop and went straight for You amassed a small pile of leftover take out napkins on your desk along with that small bottle of Vaseline Intensive Care your mom bought you a while back. Then you sat ass naked on your office chair and started going to fucking town while watching a German fisting video.

I notice you have a hard time working the track ball with just your left hand. May I suggest a mouse?


After you were done, you wiped yourself off and then, WITHOUT WASHING YOUR HANDS, ate Honey Smacks right out of the box. I can't tell you how many of my old co-workers over at CentComm were horrified by that. We all thought you would shower after that. But you didn't. Turns out that morning jerk for you is just a warmup of sorts. You decided to cruise the gossip sites, then landed on those pics of Lindsay Lohan ass naked in New York magazine, which then led you straight back to with your dick out.

It seems to be a pattern of sorts for you. You always seem to think you are done masturbating for the day, only to find something that stirs up the echoes all over again. It's really quite fascinating. Or, at least, it would be if you looked like Marisa Miller.


You buy pornography even though it's readily available to you on the Internet. I see you bring home DVD's all the time in black plastic bags. Sometimes, you can't even make it through the DVD menu without blasting your manjelly into a pair of Wigwams.

Now, I don't want you to worry about any of this. Obviously, we have no reason to make this footage public. I'm pretty sure the public isn't exactly screaming out for it. It will only be viewed by Patriots staff, along with Federal employees who have a minimum-level security clearance and some top-level executives at Unilever, who are working on a new maximum strength line of Purell hand sanitizers.


But other than that, no one ever has to know. Even though I was unceremoniously fired by the Patriots, I'm still a big believer in how they do business. And I believe that Bill Belichick is a true visionary, by which I mean he has the technology to see visions of you working the joystick any time he pleases. Does that help him win football games? No, but that hardly matters anymore.

What matters is that we live in a whole new world now, where people have embraced convenient new forms of digital communication at the expense of hijacking their own privacy. Coach Belichick knew the world was going this way and decided to take advantage before anyone else did. He was simply ahead of the curve. Soon, EVERYONE will be taping your private Tug Of Love sessions.


Admit it: it's a bit of a turn-on, isn't it?

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