Players Be Wakin' Up

Yes, Players are waking up. Josh Perry, he of the 2014 Nat'l Champ Bucks, had a brief, journeyman career in the NFL. And today, God bless him, he said, "Fuck this Shield" (or something to that effect) and bowed out after his  most recent concussion. Notice he says "my sixth documented concussion" (emphasis added). I was scrolling through a bunch of pictures and there were 4 or 5 random shots where his head was the first thing meeting some other poor sods head, including a vicious banger v Meechy in Ann Arbor.

So, a journeyman career. The Chargers. The Colts who suck. The Seahawks, also sucking. Notice also he said "a paycheck". Not a big paycheck. His last contract, this year's, with the SeaDogs was a 1 yr, non guaranteed number worth $630,000. Guess how much he gets now?
Correct.
Stugots.

Mr. Perry was a 4th round, 102nd pick overall to the San Diego Chargers for 2.95 million over 4 years. Everybody who gets drafted gets 4 years unless you go in the 1st round where you can negotiate an optional 5th year.
Wait, aren't the Chargers in LA now? Who cares. Fuck the NFL. Back to my topic.
630 grand looks like a lot of money doesn't it? Well, at least it used to until the last election. But, again, I digress. Seems like a lot of money.

Enter the perversion of the NFL rookie salary agreement, inked by the NFLPA and the NFL Owners (like Jerry Jones who is actually not a man but rather a unique and gifted lizard who has taught himself how to walk on two legs, speak English sort of and hoodwink taxpayers into building giant stadiums.) This sick fucking document was agreed to during the 2011 NFL lock out and saved the owners a ridiculous amount of money to add to the shitload of money they already had.

According to the rookie agreement every player drafted gets a four year contract, as mentioned. But, and this is where the owners start banking the green, the lower down in the draft you go the less you get (the average this year is 488K) and the less money that is guaranteed.
Therefore, very little of J. Perry's San Diego/LA/Who Gives a Shit contract would have been guaranteed such that when the Chargers released his ass after the 2016 season guess who really didn't see much of that 2.95 million?
Josh Perry.
I don't know how much the half-ass Colts paid him when he signed with them in 2017 but zero of that salary would have been guaranteed.
Which is to say if you're in the Pros, enriching Lizard Man or some other asshole, and your contract money is not guaranteed, where is the incentive to report a concussion or any other injury? Just keep playing until your brain dribbles out your nose.

Did I  mention that an NFL player's salary is taxed (at the federal level) at about 40% because their jobs are considered, basically, entertainment? Have you ever heard of the Jock Tax? What do you think Robert Fucking Kraft, worth 3.4 billion, wearing that damn blue shirt with the white collar every Sunday, pays every year in taxes? That is, if he pays taxes at all, which is highly doubtful.

Please join me in congratulating Joshua Perry on his telling the NFL to take a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut.

And, to take it one step further, thanks, Josh, for once again raising the question, albeit indirectly, of who exactly needs the NFL anyway? The real money is in the College Game. And there are no owners. There are Boards of Trustees who will eventually call out a sick bastard coach if he goes all Mike Leach and makes a kid stand in a shed for hours because he sustained a concussion.

So why don't we just give the boys their scholarships and pay them a nice wage and let Woody/Chris Johnson (NY Jets who are really in NJ) go back to selling Kotex and bandaids and doing other shit that he might have a gift for?
Like being the new United States Ambassador to the United Kingdom. Don't even fucking get me started.

Jimbosuke,
Commissioner for Life

Keeping it Hornsby

Step into the harsh light of the 2018 Jamar Hornsby competition, Mr. Smith.

I guess it's more frustrating than I thought being Urban Meyer's wide receiver coach (AND head of recruiting). Okay, yes, it rankles when you have sub-4.4 receivers all over the field who also deliver crushing blocks and your Head Man wants to run his QB on third down all the time.
And, sure, it might cause a man to take a drink now and then when, on those somewhat rare occasions when your HC decides to air it out, that same QB delivers a Moon-Shot or a turf skipper or a nifty toss to The Buckeye Guy in row 7.
I understand that sucking up to 16 year old jocks on Twitter all the live long day might get old and maybe even drive a man to try to shore up his ego with a little extramarital hide the sausage with a co-worker (though the co-worker thing, Zach. Really?).

But did you have to bring the side-piece coworker home? To sleep over? And call her "baby"? While your wife, who actually has had a couple of your babies and had another one in the oven actually, three months cooked, was HOME?
Okay, maybe some wives wouldn't object to a shit-faced football coach husband pulling in late with one of the staff. That he is probably banging. And there may even be a few that would have put up with the sleep-over "baby"scenario. At least she would know where he was. But to get yanked by your night shirt and tossed into a wall when you're heading into your second trimester and you've just driven some skank-ass Ho home because your husband was too plastered to drive?

No.

That's a beer too far, Mr. Smith.
That's going to get you dimed out to the law on a 9-1-1 call every time.

Be a man, Bro. Sleep on the floor in the garage and take your lumps. Don't go off, physically, on your wife, because she kind of objects to your beer stinking, some-other-bimbo's perfume reeking ass sleeping it off in the same bed with her.
That one is going to come back and bite you in that ass, and it did.
Bad news; you're out of a job and kind of radioactive on the new-job trail.
Good news; you're out front in the Jamar Hornsby sweepstakes.

Finally, take a good look at this guy. Who does he look like?
Right.
Earle Bruce, former TOSU head coach who died this year. He is Earl Bruce's grandson. Urbs and Coach Bruce were very tight. Especially tight when Earl was demented and had no fucking clue who Urbs was.
Which must have made it hard for the Meyermeister to shit-can Wife-Beater-Boy. But maybe Coach Meyer has learned a thing or two about rogue elements in the wide receiver room since Aaron Hernandez killed some guys and then killed himself in prison. (Though his truly greatest crime was playing for the much hated New England Patriots and their transgender QB). Aaron Hernandez was a Florida Gator product from the Urban Meyer era. Guess who his wide receiver coach was?

Zach Smith.

The Hornsby just got a lot more interesting.

Jimbosuke
Commissioner for Life