Best Wishes to You, Randy Moss

Extraordinary athlete though he was, I had several reasons to think badly of Randy Moss. He beat up a White kid in high school and was convicted of misdemeanor battery, leading Notre Dame to withdraw its offer of a scholarship. So he went to Florida State but failed a drug test which caused the usually forgiving Bobby Bowden to tell Moss he would not be a Seminole. After two splendid seasons at Marshall, he remarked rather idiotically that the 1970 plane crash in which 37 members of the team died “…was a tragedy, but it really wasn’t nothing big.” After joining the Minnesota Vikings, he squirted a referee with a water bottle, verbally abused corporate sponsors on a team bus and pretended to “moon” the fans at Lambeau Field after one touchdown catch. Moss taunted opposing players, bickered with teammates and practically bragged that he went hard only when he felt like it (“I play when I want to play” were his exact words). He once roughed up his girlfriend and refused to let her get medical treatment, although no charges were filed. Upon being inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame, Moss’s acceptance speech, given in a West Virginia twang, was typically brash and bombastic.

Nevertheless, he was hired in 2016 by ESPN as a pro football analyst and generally got good marks from his bosses, his colleagues and the fans. When Moss revealed last week that he was stepping away from his job due to a medical problem, alarms were raised. He was vague about the issue, but the sclera of his eyes had become yellow, leading to speculation that he suffered from a liver problem. Other possibilities were prostate cancer, pancreatic cancer, heart disease, diabetes and high blood pressure. As Moss asked for privacy, I will not delve further.

What can be said about this splendid football player who could run the 40 in 4.25 seconds and had a 47-inch vertical leap? He was, to the wide receiver position, the equivalent of Eric Dickerson (of whom I rhapsodized in an earlier article) at running back: tall, fast, explosive and something to behold. Moss led Dupont High School in West Virginia to consecutive state titles, and his two seasons at Marshall were easily the best in school history. Taking part in 28 games—25 of which were victories—he caught 174 passes and scored 55 touchdowns, coming in fourth in Heisman Trophy voting in 1997. One Dallas Cowboys scout called Moss “the most gifted prospect in football history.”

But with two short stints behind bars, his legal problems were no secret, and that explains why 20 teams passed on Moss in the first round of the 1998 NFL draft. The Vikings held their breath and took him. The 84 jersey he wore during his first seven seasons in purple and gold has not been retired, which I find odd since he caught 587 passes for 9,316 yards and scored 92 touchdowns. Not long after the feigned trou-dropping incident against the Packers, he was traded to Oakland. Moss was there in 2005 and 2006, and he hated being on a losing (6-26) team. Did he loaf sometimes? Some would say he took a two-year vacation. Owner/GM Al Davis looked for a trading partner and found one in the New England Patriots. Coach Bill Belichick was amenable to adding Moss to his roster, and it only cost him a fourth-round pick. Those who thought Moss’s skills may have deteriorated had to eat their words; he started every game for three seasons, caught 250 passes and scored 47 touchdowns. The ’07 Patriots were undefeated up to Super Bowl 42, which they lost to the New York Giants.

Early in the 2010 season, Moss started grumbling about his contract—a foolish thing to do in light of the fact that the Pats had helped rehabilitate his image. They shipped him back to Minnesota where, petulant as ever, he spoke badly about coach Brad Childress and some of his teammates. Owner Zygi Wilf had seen enough and he was waived. Just one team claimed him, the Tennessee Titans, and they were soon disenthralled. Cut again, Moss announced his retirement, which lasted one year. Perhaps he missed the money or the attention; admitting the passage of athletic glory is never easy. The San Francisco 49ers gave him a shot, and he contributed little to a team that ended up in Super Bowl 47, a three-point loss to the Baltimore Ravens.

Despite never being on a championship team, Moss achieved a lot in 14 NFL seasons. With the possible exception of Green Bay’s Don Hutson, only one wide receiver in league history can compare with him—Jerry Rice, who had the good fortune to spend most of his career with the high-riding 49ers. Rice, who was on three Super Bowl winners, played in 303 games to Moss’s 218, and he caught 1,549 passes (982) for 22,895 yards (15,292). Rice also led in TD’s—197 to 156. In only one major category did Moss top Rice, and that is yards per catch (15.6 to 14.8). If Moss had more speed and jumped higher, Rice was a harder worker, more disciplined and team-oriented. And for that matter, Rice was a better and more willing blocker. Both, it should be obvious, were great ones.

Having said all that, I hope Randy Moss makes a full recovery from whatever is ailing him.