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Note: This is part two of a three part series detailing my personal, complicated feelings about Randy Moss. I love him for the player he was, but hate him for what could have been. Hit it here for Part I.
First came infatuation. Then love. Then hate.
That was my emotional roller coaster with Randy Moss. It never stayed at hate. It mostly boiled down to apathy during his Oakland years, admiration with his time with the Patriots, a mixed bag when the returned in 2010 (which we’ll get to in Part 3), and relatively neutral feelings since then.
It’s akin to the feels you have about an ex-lover. You linger on memories of the great times, but then you get bitter when you remember how they screwed the whole thing up. And exes generally return to your life at least once, so the comparison fits Moss to a T. Read the rest of this entry »
Us 90s kids all feel that way.
Around 10-13 years old is when kids really start to take sports seriously. They’re the formative years which a person always looks back on with fondness and will refer to as “the good ole days” for the rest of their life. Something about being on the cusp of becoming a teenager opens up the brain and the mind becomes a sponge for everything related to their chosen interests.
Born in 1985, my sponge opened up at a perfect time in sports. The Jordan Dynasty was back in full effect after the baseball vacation (and before the Wizards experiment), something-called Kevin Garnett out of something-called Farragut Academy was starting to come into his own with the Wolves, and the Vikings drafted a controversial wide receiver from the smoky hills of Rand, West Virginia named Randy Moss 21st overall in the 1998 Draft.
Let’s back it up to 1997, I already knew who Randy Moss was. I was obsessed with him. Read the rest of this entry »