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Manti Te’o Conspiracy Theories: A TFM Roundtable Discussion

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Image via CBS Sports

Image via CBS Sports


Here’s the real question, is it that hard to believe that a Mormon Notre Dame student is so terrible with women that he can’t tell the difference between a real one and a fake one? That seems pretty standard.

Furthermore, yes he lied about things like locking eyes with her at the Stanford game a few years ago, but again, that’s the whole Mormon Notre Dame student aspect at play. Most people would say this is proof that Te’o was in on the lie. I disagree. This, to me, is still proof that he thought she was real.

A normal person would tell lies about his out-of-town girlfriend like, “Yeah man, the first time we met we just banged it out all night. She’s a freak dude. And hot as shit! You can’t NOT lock something like that down. She woke me up with a blow jay the next morning too. I AM AWESOME!” A sweet, naïve, Mormon Notre Dame student, however, would exaggerate the romance instead of the hook ups, because that’s what sweet, naïve, Mormon Notre Dame students do. “The first time we met, we just locked eyes right there. She’s so special. And so beautiful. How could I not fall in love? We had waffles with blueberry smiley faces cooked right in the next morning too. I AM AWESOME!”

If this had happened to a USC player it would be the most unbelievable lie of all time. Sure buddy, you totally settled for a long term, long distance girlfriend instead of fondling more Song Girl sweaters than the creepy guy who does the USC athletic department laundry. But Te’o? The Mormon Notre Dame student? Why wouldn’t he want a relationship like the one he thought he had? It’s all of the emotional attachment and investment without any of the fun sex stuff. That sounds perfect for him, because really, behind the physical prowess and the SWEET tat sleeves, he’s a total pussy.


Failed Fratter

Is this the weirdest story to come out of sports since New York Yankee pitchers Fritz Peterson and Mike Kekich announced to the world that they were swapping wives in 1973? A linebacker for one of the biggest national football programs has his grandma and girlfriend die in the same week, finds out the girlfriend is fake, then plays in the national championship, where the nation finds out his defense is a giant fraud, THEN the nation finds out his girlfriend was a hoax?

First off, let’s not be surprised at the college where the myth was permeated. Notre Dame is known for myths, and grand cover-ups. I mean, it’s a Roman Catholic institution, the same religion that shielded bishops from child sexual abuse cases under a bigger cloak than SEAL Team Six operated in Abbottabad during the Bin Laden killing. This is the same school that told a girl who had been sexually assaulted, “Don’t do anything you wouldn’t regret. Messing with Notre Dame Football is a bad idea,” before she killed herself two days later. This is the same school that forced a football cameraman to operate during a historic Midwest windstorm at a football practice, and is still haggling with the parents of the STUDENT who died about how much his life, and their responsibility, is worth.

Oh, and this is the school who everyone said had “turned the corner” and was “back” before getting slaughtered like an unwanted slampiece does to a Golden Corral buffet.

This is the school whose football team is known for elaborate myths. I mean, Touchdown Jesus? Come on, everyone knows Jesus was a Jewish hippie who grew cannabis as his side job, and was too busy converting water into wine to care about scoring touchdowns.

“Win one for the Gipper?” Yep, also a myth. A 12-0 record and a claim to the number one ranking in the polls pre-national championship slaughtering? Come on, that’s the weakest number one ranking since Jennifer Lawrence was in the top 5 for Maxim’s Top 100 in 2013.

Now, I’m not going to question Te’o’s sexuality, though if he was gay, now might be the best time for him to come out, for purely PR reasons. Gay Mormon Hawaiian linebacker at school that openly rejects homosexuality and schools known for 2 Live Crew and Bernie Kosar? The only athlete that had more gay rumors swirling around him was Troy Aikman, but if you think about, Jerry Jones has pretty much fucked every Dallas Cowboy in the ass.

So who was behind this? Notre Dame covered it up, but who was Lenny Kekua? Was she created by Ronaiah Tuiasosopo, a football prospect who was friends with Te’o? No. Think about it, what were the storylines in football this year: Johnny Football, Johnny Football, Johnny Football beating Alabama, Notre Dame defense, Manti Te’o, Manti Te’o’s struggles, Notre Dame, Notre Dame, Johnny Football has a hot girlfriend, Johnny Football has a fat girl sing about him, Bill Snyder/Collin Klein, Johnny Football.

Who was the National Champion? Alabama. Who was nobody talking about throughout the season? Alabama. What was the main storyline after the National Championship? Katherine Webb’s hotness. Who is nobody still talking about enough during the off-season? Alabama. Who cast a spell on Tim Tebow, damning him to eternal mediocrity in the NFL after losing to him in college? Nick Saban. Who gave Johnny Football Heat tickets, a bottle of Dom Perignone and the Heisman Trophy? Nick Saban. Why did he do it? So Johnny forgets that he plays football, and becomes not Johnny Football but Johnny Flat-on-his-ass September 14th. Who created a fake girlfriend, only to then pull back and put on a better episode of Punk’d than Ashton Kutcher ever did? The only plausible answer would be Nick Saban.



I’m not a conspiracy kinda guy, and I tend to dislike conspiracy theorists altogether. I really like to think I’m a big common sense thinker. Logic and everything. Having said all that, Te’o is telling the truth, for the most part.

You’ve heard all the details so I won’t get into all that, but the Samoan-Mormon-Hawaiian-American wasn’t in on this thing from the jump like many are surmising. He also didn’t learn about the hoax last week like he told Jeremy Schaap during his chickenshit off-screen interview. He learned about it in September right before Lennay supposedly died of cancer. That was the tipping point, and he and his boy had to pull the plug. It had gotten out of hand.

You see, I think Te’o is a ravenous sexter. A sext machine. He got a taste of that sweet, sweet Kekua juice, via text message of course, and couldn’t put it down. He became addicted and obsessed to the point he was blind to the obvious — that his boy Tuiluioslolosuiopo was just sending him google image tit and ass pics on the reg. It spiraled violently out of control. After countless hint drops from ‘Sopo that he was behind it and received way too many graphic Manti wiener shots from the “Samoan foot long” google image file on his desktop, his boy came clean in early September. Just a prank turned sour. At this point the media had a stranglehold on this pseudo-sextathon and they had to scheme a solution to throw off this pending media catastrophe.

They murdered her, hoping to turn the American media off the scent of her sext involvement, and onto to a feel-gooder Heisman promotion.


The Devry Guy

I don’t see what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s different at a college like Notre Dame, but here at DeVry nobody has ever met their girlfriend. Hell, I haven’t even met any of the HUNDREDS of girls I’ve hooked up with! This is probably a good thing, because steamy drunken AIM chatroom convos are as far as I’m willing to go with a girl right now. Sometimes they want to Skype me, but I’m like “nah.” I like to take it slow.

I’ve been in numerous online relationships, and let me tell you, it ain’t easy. You’re always doing something wrong. If they aren’t getting mad at you for not logging on for a few hours or forgetting to put up an away message, they’re getting mad at you for pretending to be a girl for the last 6 months. It’s always something.

I think Manti Te’o is just another innocent victim of the online dating scene. We’ve all had our hearts broken. It’s a tricky and gender-confusing little game, but that’s just how it goes.

Don’t worry though, Manti, there are plenty of other catfish in the sea.



It’s January 2012. Or April 2009. The timeline is fuzzy. I’m a highly-touted, 5-star dick joke prospect who has been recruited down to Austin by a chubby, steam-faced ginger in order to lead Total Frat Move to glory.

Immediately, rumors circulate around the TFM office about my sexuality. Everyone wonders why such a brilliant, stunningly attractive, humble prodigy with a prowess for penis puns is never seen with a girl on his arm, let alone a different girl every night, as is common with the rest of the staff. Dorn confides in Bolen that he suspects that my penmanship is “a little funny.” Hilt’ and Corningstone solicit me for Lilly advice. Allen snickers anytime I walk past his office. Bacon doesn’t give two shits, because he’s busy rummaging through the laundry room, sniffing Hot Piece’s perspiration-drenched bras.

Though my God-given talents misdirect everyone’s instincts, what my writing teammates don’t grasp is that, in truth, I’m simply an introverted, religious, heterosexual kid who was born practically halfway around the world. I’m not used to the spotlight molesting me. The thought of flirting with a girl makes my shy genitals turtle. I’d rather do my job, do it well, and let everyone else Wagon Wheel the night away.

But the dick joke biz has a puritanical, machismo culture. I can’t have everyone thinking I write left-handed. My buddy back home comes up with a solution. We fabricate a girlfriend out of nothing but the official Heismanwood Derby parts kit.

Meanwhile, my writing career begins taking off. I get national acclaim when I flawlessly execute seven cock jokes in one year. But something’s changed. Austin’s limelight-obsessed culture has enwrapped itself around me. My greatness wants recognition. It NEEDS recognition. Sometimes, I purchase entire bookstores’ worth of Dick Jokes Illustrated whose covers are graced by my face, shred them into powder, and bury my nostrils into a stimulating, white mound of my own egomania.

Yet, the media has begun to overlook me in favor of a new darling: Johnny Dick Jokes. I need to re-chase the dragon of narcissism. Reporters hear that my fictitious soulmate has died of butthole cancer. I don’t correct them. The day the media catches wind of my tribulations, I write my best column yet. My lies of omission have turned me into a dick joke media darling. My Twitter receives an outpouring of sympathy. Thousands of dollars are raised to battle b-hole cancer, all because of me. Me. MMMEEEEEEEEE.

After my tale fades from the public’s consciousness, I decide I might as well confess. I go to Allen, who’s been using my rousing story to deflect attention from a disgusting rape-suicide scandal involving Dick Perry. He tells me, “Nothing stops. NOTHING.” Huge Bill Simmons reference fan, that guy. And so, as much as I want to do the right thing, I remain quiet, embarrassed, and self-loathing, hoping no one discovers my secret before the Dick Joke Combine.

So, let me ask you: Could I play football at Notre Dame?



He was framed!

Manti Te’o is innocent! It’s all just a giant media conspiracy to bring down a rising athletic star. Have you not seen the tweets? It’s on Twitter. That means it’s fucking real, people. If you believe that Manti Te’o fabricated a relationship with a made up girlfriend, there’s no way you could believe that Kanye West actually impregnated Kim Kardashian. It’s all bullshit!

Everything that stars do is under the watchful eye of the media. There’s always an agenda. Do you think that Manti is smart enough to slip past the trolls at Deadspin? No.

He’s a football player. No defense offense, but he’s not exactly the brightest crayon in the box. To pull off such an absurd hoax, you’d need a twisted type of intelligence. I personally do not think that Manti is capable of such an insidious act. There is no way that an up and coming NFL star could ever… be… stupid… enough… to fabricate such a ridiculous story…

At first I thought it might be some dumb slut that was obsessed with him, pretending to be something she was not. As a man, I know how easily pussy can manipulate our rational cognition. But the more I looked into it, the more it didn’t make any sense. Manti Te’o is a fucking stud. Why would he be wasting his time with some online camwhore when he is surrounded by sluts who would kill to slob on his knob?

The pieces of the puzzle didn’t fit together. Something was amiss. Then I thought, maybe it was some sort of artificial intelligence. Maybe there was a SKYNET program that was good enough to fool an outstanding linebacker into thinking it was real. Obviously, my first suspicions fell upon Cleverbot.

Screen Shot 2013-01-17 at 11.32.19 PM

But as you can see, Cleverbot has no interest in irony. I didn’t know where else to turn… I thought the trail had gone cold. I was facing a dead end… but NO! It hit me like a sock full of batteries on C-block in San Quentin… It was the NFL. The fucking NFL… of course!

Manti Te’o is a beast. The only people who could profit from such an outlandish scandal are shitty franchises who want him to lose status in the draft. Who would want to draft a guy with an imaginary girlfriend other than someone like Andy Reid looking to give Chiefs fans a reason to attend games?

You mother fuckers… You thought you could get away with murder… You thought you could ruin a life and scoop up Manti Te’o because he’s a crazy guy with an invisible slam piece, but you’re wrong! The people know that Manti Te’o is an awesome linebacker and they won’t fall for your lies and propaganda.

Whoever picks up Manti Te’o in the draft… that’s Lennay Kekua.

Case Closed.


W.R. Bolen

My guess? Te’o himself is dead. He’s like Bruce Willis in The Sixth Sense. Or maybe we’re not even dealing with the real Te’o anymore. Maybe he has a body double like Saddam Hussein. How hard could it be? All those Samoans look alike. My other theory? Te’o is Lennay, like Finkle is Einhorn.


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