If there has ever been a position in all of professional sports where egocentric, outlandish and sometimes insubordinate behavior has become not only emblematic but the determining factor of your popularity it is that of the NFL wide receiver. A passive fan of the league (i.e.- your girlfriend, mom, girlfriend's mom, 4-year-old nephew) would have a hard time identifying the likes of Andre Johnson, Steve Smith or Larry Fitzgerald, all of whom have put up fantastic career numbers and consistently produce at a higher level than most in their position. However, they're relatively quiet, opting rather to let their play on the field do their talking for them as opposed to openly taunting defensive backs in pre-game interviews and slandering teammates in post-game press conferences. Now, ask those same aloof fans who Terrell Owens, Chad Ochocinco (formerly Chad Johnson) or Randy Moss are and you would get a resounding "Oh, I like him! He's funny!" response. Why? Because they're assholes.
People like assholes, despite what most say. For instance, I happen to be one myself. I'm crotchety, judgmental, selfish, mask most of my insecurities by pointing out the flaws of others (often my own friends) and have great difficulty finding a woman who can stand my presence for more than a few weeks, tops. Yet, somehow I find myself surrounded with people who enjoy my company. It's fucking ridiculous. People just find assholes more interesting, I guess. Look at about 3/4 the people on your TV. Asshole, asshole, asshole, Anthony Bourdain, asshole, asshole, asshole, Tina Fey, asshole, asshole, asshole, the guy from Dirty Jobs. Done. And with all this, Grey's Anatomy and NCIS continually top their nights in Neilsen ratings. We're talking that skinny fuck from Loverboy and Mark Harmon, people.
In professional football, the star wide receiver commonly displays his eagerness to be the top contributor to his team's success. After all, a receiver NEEDS the quarterback to give them the ball so it only makes sense that they would express this in an abrasive manner whenever a camera or tape recorder is present. It's quite ironic that the only player he cannot battle for face-time with is the starting quarterback, due to the fact that he's always the de facto face of the team and inherently looked at as a "good guy" (unless you're Jay Cutler, but that's mainly because his mouth looks like a dickhole). With the possible exception of the running back (or in Cleveland's case, kicker Phil Dawson), the rest of the team members are looked at as minor contributors and are commonly overlooked by roving reporters in search of juicy quotes. Who wants to hear an offensive lineman talk? He's paid to be fat. Here's a bacon-wrapped chili-cheese dog deep fried in Dr. Pepper, fatty. Now, shut your fat fucking face!
Now, the mouth of the wide receiver can only be as big as his talent, which brings us to the subject of today's posting: Freddie Mitchell. Who? Exactly. Most may remember him as the mohawk-sporting Philadelphia wide receiver who caught this famous pass that contributed to an Eagles Super Bowl appearance. I remember him as a mediocre slot receiver who tried to ride a single catch into NFL stardom by turning into a grand-standing prick. He exhibited asshole-like behavior by thanking his hands in a post-game interview for "being so great" and showed up to subsequent press conferences with oven mitts to prevent any unexpected damages. He also went the Wu-Tang route and gave himself several nicknames. It takes a special type of asshole to give himself a moniker, let alone several. This thought never crossed Freddie's mind as he relentlessly implored people to refer to him by such aliases as The People's Champ, The Sultan of Slot, First Down Freddie, Fourth Down Freddie, Hollywood, 4th and 26 Freddie, Puppetmaster, and FredEx (because he "always delivers" – see what he did there?), a nickname shared with San Francisco Giants infielder Freddy Sanchez.
I repeat, one catch.
The Eagles eventually lost to the Patriots in Super Bowl XXXIX, a loss that Freddie took quite gracefully by claiming the outcome would've been different had he been thrown to more. He was released before the start of the next season. Mind you, this was a Philly team that included everyone's favorite asshole Terrell Owens, who looked like a fucking bathroom attendant in comparison. Anytime T.O. tells you to get your shit together you should shoot yourself out of a cannon into a brick wall that's on fire and wrapped with razor wire.
So, where is Freddie now? Glad you asked. After unsuccessfully shopping his 1,263 career yards around the league, The People's Champ landed a stint as a substitute teacher in Mishawaka, Indiana. When that didn't work out (due to his soliciting of high school girls' phone numbers), Freddie dropped from the spotlight for a spell, only to triumphantly return with the following series of videos:
Ah, the lovely "haters" word, commonly used in defense of people taking umbrage with one's self-serving, deplorable behavior. The close-up makes me chuckle every time. But wait, Hollywood ain't done, y'all! To make this next message seem more authentic and in no way hastily shot immediately following the previous rant, ol' Puppetmaster takes his jacket off to give his thoughts on the draft.
Notice how he uses the draft as a way to abstractly talk about himself while actually saying nothing even remotely close to an analysis of anything having to do with the draft? Oh, F/FDF (First/Fourth Down Freddie)... you spinster, you. You got me. Wait! Now the hat's off!
IT WAS THE FIRST TIME HE WAS THROWN TO IN THE GAME! He even says it! Just over a minute to go in the most important game of the season to that point and he hasn't even gotten a fucking look. Delusion is a hell of a thing, my friends.
There's a lesson to be learned from the tale of this bag of dicks, people. If you're going to be an asshole have the talent to back it up. Also, don't ever hire Discount Marketing to shoot anything for you. Seriously, if you view the actual YouTube pages for these videos you'll see that they were all posted by Discount Marketing. He hired a fucking marketing agency to produce that shit. Discount. Marketing. Oh, Freddie.
FredEx recently bought a barbeque restaurant called "Brothers" in his hometown of Lakeland Florida. As of September of this year, the restaurant has been closed and ol' Freddie's facing a lawsuit as a result of failing to make payments on the business. Yep. Sounds about right.
-Zack Hull, Professional Asshole
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