Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Class, Class, Class

Die Chad Johnson.

Yes, die a slow painful death. You are just another Prima Donna with a tendancy to sound stupid in public situations.

Why demand a trade? To where? For what reason? Didn't he just sign a 6 year extension two years ago? Better yet, does he really have any sort of clout in the matter? No sir, he does not. And that's why someone in the Bengals front office - anyone, even the fucking cleaning lady - should just step back and let Chad rant and rave until he falls fast asleep in the cradled arms of Michael Irvin.

There aren't many aspects of the NFL that I find absurdly stupid, but the leverage a player has when trying to oust himself from a situation he doesn't prefer is the one that exceeds the rest.

Don't like the new QB? Demand a trade.

Don't like the new coach? Demand a trade.

Don't like the cheerleader who decided to put out this season? Demand a trade.

It's happened so many times in the past, the whole scenario is becoming redundant. Name after name after name has gone through this process, but there's still one that will forever stand out in my mind - an awfully bittersweet one in fact. But not the type of bittersweet situation where you laugh at a man falling down the stairs to the subway platform, only to realize he's blind and crippled. No, this one was different.

It was March, 2004. I was in my second senior year of college, about to finish up my illustrious career as a full-time dirtbag/student/functioning alcoholic, with a monstrous 2.5 GPA to boot, when I heard the news.

My hick friend, the same one who drove a Dodge Ram, had a dog named "Truck", and had a 2000 Super Bowl Champion Ravens flag still stuck into the passenger side window of said truck, dropped the bomb on me(all the previous info is 100% true).

Terrell Owens was about to become a Raven.

And granted, at first, I was jealous over his newly acquired star player. It's not often that a gambreaking wide receiver changes hands from team to team for what amounts to the price of nothing, and it especially hurt then because he was about to go spread his annoying gayness and egocentric bullshit amongst an already douched-up fan base. Now, if you don't know Baltimore, then good, you should keep it that way. But if you do know any fans from that dumpster, then you understand my hatred, because you understand the retardedness of their fans.

- 3 yard gain? Let's scream and clap like Savants.
- 2 yard loss? Same thing.
- What should we wear to the game today, Hosses? How about purple camouflage pants and a dick hat? Sounds fucking awesome!
- Does your dick get as hard as mine when you see Ray Lewis do his seizure dance and then stab someone on a sidewalk and walk away free? I hope so!

Anyway, my Ravens-fan-friend was excited, brodering on emotional, and a bit creepy. He started calling for another championship, he started talking more shit than ever before. But he spoke too loud, and the Karma gods heard him. And happened next pertains to the story at hand, Chad Johnson's bullshit that is. Terrell Owens demanded ANOTHER trade, because the original one didn't suit him.


Are you kidding?

I'm not going to lie, at the time, I was rolling around as happy as a fat girl moving from LA to Cleveland, because Baltimore's depression was thicker than smoke. Eventually, my wits got to me, and I realized that Owens is much more than a repressed homosexual who probably takes it more than he gives it - He's actually a real pioneer. A pioneer that found a new way to fuck over fans, owners and coaches. And that's what Chad is doing now. He wants out, because he's a dick. Nothing more, nothing less.

I think Marvin Lewis and the Bengals' fat owner should take a page from the story of Dan Williams. Williams, a defensive end and former first round pick by The Denver Broncos, spent his first four seasons sucking and battling injuries. After Denver released him from his rookie contract, he caught on with Kansas City and produced solid numbers in his first season with the team, piling up 35 tackles and 10.5 sacks.

So what did Williams do after the season?

He told everyone and anyone that would listen that he was going to sit out the next season unless he got a new contract. Forget the fact that K.C. gave him a shot and signed him, even though he was slowly falling into the "bust" category - Williams wanted to get paid. And he followed up with his decision. And K.C. refused to budge. And this is how the story should've ended. Let the motherfucker sit out until his contract expires.

But no. The K.C. brass blinked. Williams got his money, blew cock, and retired an asshole, probably peddling his autograph somewhere in the Midwest, laughing in the face of each and every Chiefs fan. I know I would.

So hold strong Cincy, make Johnson eat his fucking words. For once, have the balls to make this guy miss the season, even if it is only to prove a worthless point.

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