Chuck Klosterman’s recently published Football is not for you, and he’ll be the first to admit it. As he clearly states in his introduction, his latest project, brilliant as always, is intended for people in the future.
Football does its Klostermanian best to explain the NFL’s immense and unparalleled popularity in terms that future generations might not be able to comprehend for eventually, Klosterman predicts, football, and our obsession with it, will reach its inevitable decline. He’s not sure exactly when this will happen, but the unforeseeable events of this week may have kickstarted its descent.
The NFL’s Pro Bowl has a rich and honored heritage.
Or at least I think it does. I don’t recall the last time I watched one.
The current watered-down, flag-snagging version of the NFL’s Pro Bowl has become a battle-of-the-network-stars competition, complete with sideline Mannings. It’s devolved into a punt, pass and kick competition that’s less memorable than the one in which an overgrown 13-year-old Andy Reid first participated.
We’ve been over this in the past. The NFL can do no wrong, its few missteps blanketed by our current, perhaps even irrational obsession. Ratings continue to climb; the NFL is as popular as ever. Networks and advertisers continue to pay exorbitant amounts for mere mention during an NFL game. Even the nonsensical Bad Bunny halftime conversation will be silenced when the man inevitably puts on a performance for the ages.
But for some unknown reason, the NFL still can’t figure out this whole Pro Bowl thing.
When we rank the greatest players in any sport, our arguments are predicated on their accolades. Reaching All-Star Games and Pro Bowls matters. Pete Rose made 17 All-Star Games. That means that not only was he a bad ass albeit troubled baseball player, but he also had longevity, routinely voted in by fans who wanted to watch him play. Same with LeBron James, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar or any other player who achieved sustained success and popularity for so many years.
The NBA has two such honors, the fan’s selection of players into a mid-season All-Star contest that is fun, but that nobody takes seriously. Like its Pro Bowl brother, the NBA All-Star Game has experienced constant retooling over the years. The NBA also has an end of the season All-NBA team. Three of them, actually. This is an honor as voted upon by sportswriters and broadcasters that doesn’t require post-season participation. The writers rank players first, second or third best at their position. It’s undoubtedly an honor and, I’ve always felt, a good indication where players rank among the all-time greats depending upon how frequently they show up on these lists.
And yes, I know the NFL has that as well, but the Pro Bowl itself, which is also synonymous with greatness, is turning into a meaningless dog and pony show. It’s the least watched NFL event of the season, and that includes pre-season games where starters don’t suit up, Thursday night games between sub-.500 teams and combines where they don’t play at all.
I bring this up because Pro Bowl appearances are no longer an accurate measure of a player’s greatness.
I bring this up because Shedeur Sanders was just nominated for the Pro Bowl.
I have nothing against Shedeur Sanders. Merely by virtue of being Deion’s son, from his college days to the draft and into the pros, the kid has been put through the ringer but this season, he started only eight games for the Cleveland Browns once they finally decided they’d run out of options. He played admirably at times but is by no means Pro Bowl material. He might not even be the starting quarterback next season.
When I think of the Pro Bowl, and perhaps I’m mistaken as the term has taken on new meaning, the season’s best at each position should have earned that right. I can rattle off a healthy list of AFC quarterbacks that had a better season than Shedeur, starting with Drake Maye, Sam Darnold, Trevor Lawrence, Bo Nix, Justin Herbert, Josh Allen, Aaron Rodgers and Daniel Jones. Notice how I didn’t mention either Lamar Jackson or Patrick Mahomes whose seasons were subpar by their standards but who you’d take blindfolded over a healthy Shedeur Sanders.
I get that a lot of these players were probably offered the spot and turned it down but that’s part of the problem. Guys are passing on the honor because it no longer exists. So, if the players don’t give a damn, why should we?
Joe Montana was an 8-time Pro Bowler. That means something. If quarterbacks continue to rescind the offer like a wedding invitation they don’t want to attend and someone like Sanders continues to amass Pro Bowl appearances by default, doesn’t that dilute history?
If we’re honoring bottom-third quarterbacks, that defeats the purpose of having it at all.
Speaking of purpose, what the hell is going on in Canton? Bill Belichick, winner of six Super Bowls, was apparently not good enough to enter the Pro Football Hall of Fame on the first ballot. Within days, football has been turned on its head. Shedeur Sanders good enough, Belichick not. I never thought I’d see the day.
To be fair, only five NFL coaches have been voted into the Hall on their first try: George Halas, Vince Lombardi, Tom Landry, Don Shula and Chuck Noll. Not a bad list, although one would think Belichick’s resume ranks among those icons, considering he’s got more career wins than three of them.
Apparently not.
We can speculate as to why Belichick was left out, i.e., SpyGate, etc. but if the man commonly considered the greatest coach of all-time is being made to wait in line, who else is safe? If you want to cite integrity of the game, I have a hundred unauthorized pain killers and some concussions to sell you as evidence to the contrary.
Currently, we can’t get enough football. That much is undeniable. But these silly little chinks in the armor, honoring Sanders for the season he had, punishing Belichick to prove a point, is the same reason people once stopped watching baseball.
And maybe, just maybe, Chuck Klosterman is right.
