It was an eventful weekend at PFT headquarters. Among several other developments I won’t bore you with here (in part because one of them served as the official annual reminder of my eventual demise), I learned that I’m the devil.
Yes, according to Terrell Owens, I am Satan.
In fairness, Owens didn’t single me out specifically. He used a broad brush, calling the entire website Satan. But since it’s my website, I’ll gladly wear the hooves.
It’s unclear why T.O. is upset. The Friday item from MDS regarding T.O.’s recent Bruce-Willis-at-the-end-of-The-Sixth-Sense-style realization that it’s over didn’t take any shots at Owens, other than to point out the obvious fact that he continues to deal with a reputation for being a bad teammate. Which is hardly breaking news.
And my follow-up regarding Owens’ current eligibility for the Hall of Fame in 2016 points out that he’ll inevitably make it. But I also mentioned that the way he conducted himself could slow him down by a year or two. (Many of you disagreed with me, amazingly finding Owens unworthy of Canton. He definitely should be there.)
It was humorous, but also typical or T.O. and thus, ultimately, a little sad. The man who perfected the art of externalizing blame still continues to do so.
Never is anything his fault, except when he sees the potential benefit of swallowing a small chunk of his pride and admitting he has made mistakes as part of a last-ditch effort to continue his career.
Somehow, the media has poisoned every NFL General Manager into thinking that Owens is unfit for employment. Yes, his absence from an NFL roster at a time when there are nearly 2,900 available spots have nothing to do with Owens’ age or his declining skills or his attitude or his history. He has been involuntarily exiled for two full seasons and counting because of all the things that demons like us have written and said about him.
My knee-jerk response came on Twitter, with a link to one of my favorite TV scenes of all time. Peter King of SI.com was intrigued by T.O.’s allegation, possibly since King has to deal with me on Sundays during football season. (He now knows not to accept any apples I may offer him.) So Peter asked for a more detailed response, which he published today.
“I realize Terrell is frustrated about the fact that no one is interested in giving him a roster spot,” I told King. “If my willingness to point that out or to analyze the possible reasons for it or to mention some of the many ill-advised things he has done throughout his career for which he since has expressed remorse makes me the devil, then give me my pitchfork and feel free to play ring toss on either or both of my horns.”
So, yes, in the mind of Terrell Owens, I am the devil. Which means that this is hell.
Welcome. And don’t worry, it’ll only feel like an eternity.