You Can Be A Hall of Famer!

08.10.06 11 years ago 47 Comments

The Pro Football Hall of Fame inductions were this past weekend. All the great players were there! You know: Dan Dierdorf, Tommy McDonald… real fucking legends of the game! Now you might think that getting into the Hall of Fame is a difficult task. Perhaps you think you need to rack up huge statistics, or win Super Bowls, or make an indelible impact on the game to make the Hall. Not so! For you see, I, Big Daddy Drew, have uncovered a simple program that will make me a bonafide Hall of Famer! Complete with urine yellow blazer and a bust that looks nothing like me!

On the surface, you might think this a ludicrous idea. After all, I didn’t even play pro football. In fact, I only played two years in the NESCAC conference, and that’s only because NESCAC teams don’t make cuts! And even then I didn’t get to play! I just stood on the sidelines and thought about beer and pussy the whole game! I didn’t get to bring the water out. That was a backup’s job. If the starter and backup ever got injured, they would have another backup play out of position because I couldn’t block two X’s on a Tic Tac Dough board.

But that hardly matters if you want to get into the Hall of Fame! Football skills aren’t what the 39-man board of embittered dipshit writers value. No, they value kindness above all! Why, take it from SI’s Dr. Z, the world’s foremost doctor of autoproctology. Here he is talking about the Hall of Fame chances of coach Dick Vermiel!

Dick Vermeil, though, has made nothing but friends throughout his career, and he’ll be rewarded right away. Sure, I’ll vote for Dick. He sent me a case of that great cabernet he makes in Calistoga. You bet I’ll vote for him.

Goddamn right you will, Paul! Who cares if Dick Vermeil didn’t win as many Super Bowls as Tom Flores? He sent you a fucking crate of wine, and that makes him a great coach!

But let’s assume Dr. Z is being facetious on the wine. Perhaps he could give an even more ridiculous insight into the Hall’s voting process!

Last year at the Super Bowl, (Warren) Moon was out there doing radio or TV work, I can’t remember which, for some station in Seattle. We started talking about the Hall of Fame. He was too polite to ask me what his chances were, but I brought it up and told him he had a hell of a good chance. He didn’t think so. He thought the field was too strong. I told him, “You have a good shot because everybody liked you. You never stiffed anybody and you were always friendly and cooperative. I don’t want to take anything away from your qualifications as a player, but those selectors in there are also writers and they have long memories. Their memories of you are all good ones.” I hope I made him feel better.

I’m sure you did, Dr. Z! Because once Warren Moon found out that all you had to do to make the Hall was be nice to the media, he knew he was Canton-bound! Even though Moon never took his team to a conference title game, and had his career numbers inflated by playing in a run-and-shoot offense, he was “friendly and cooperative,” and that’s what makes him a true legend! Way more than Thurman Thomas, who was the lynchpin of four consecutive Super Bowl teams in Buffalo. That guy was a prick!

In fact, if you’re not nice to the media, that clearly makes you a crummy player. Why, just look at Art Monk! Monk refrained from talking to the media during his career in Washington, so maybe he wasn’t such a good player after all! Right, Dr. Z?

Catching 800 eight-yard hooks does not make a Hall of Famer.

It’s so true! Even though Monk averaged 13.5 yards per catch during his career, his total dickheadedness to the media totally knocks that average down 5.5 yards! So you see? All you have to do is play your cards right with the group of slovenly, pathetic asswipes who are arbitrarily assigned as gatekeepers to the Hall, and you’re a shoo-in! That’s how Frank Caliendo got in last week! So I’ve created this to-do list that will help me curry favor with some particular Hall voters. Wish me luck, not that I’ll be needing it!

Michael Wilbon, Washington Post – Send naked photos of Michael Jordan and Charles Barkley; complimentary VIP passes to the Deja Vu club in Ypsilanti, Michigan. Discuss various topics through the complex prism that we call “race”. Agree with him that liking the NFL Draft is totally stupid, even though millions of people like the NFL Draft and harm no one by doing so.

Paul Zimmerman, Sports Illustrated – Send case of Yellow Tail Shiraz, mustache trimmer, sample colostomy bag kit, bondage photos of Flaming Redhead.

Peter King, Sports Illustrated – Offer to take down dull, non-salacious photos of daughter on website. Send free DVD of “House”, plus copies of “An Inconvenient Truth,” “Bowling for Columbine,” and anything else that appeals to self-absorbed, surburban liberal dipshits. Oh, and two True Miguel Tejada foul balls.

Sid Hartman, Minneapolis Star Tribune – Send year’s supply of Kellogg’s All Bran.

Ron Borges, Boston Globe – Send pictures of naked 8-year-old boys and clown suit.

Bernie Miklasz, St. Louis Post-Dispatch – Send the severed testicles of Rams team president John Shaw; case of pistachios.

John Clayton, ESPN – Buy drinks, tell him that the rest of the 48 contiguous states also fucking hate Sean Salisbury.

Jerrett Bell, USA Today – Send copy of Strunk & White.

Len Pasquarelli, ESPN.com – Send entire hotel pan of clams casino, plus day-old caesar salad.

See you in Canton next summer. My wife will be inducting me.

UPDATE: I’m not much of a Skins fan, and I think that it’s fair to debate Monk’s place in the Hall. It’s just Dr. Z’s tossed-off arrogance that makes me want to turn green and smash things with impunity.

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