One last column.
What am I going to do with myself? I’m off to the scary world of unemployment while I wait for my big break at The Washington Post.
I think I’ll start my career as a sandwich artist and serve Jared at Subway until Tony Kornheiser steps down and passes me his throne as the most sarcastic man in America.
But the question remains — what should this final dose of eternal wisdom entail?
It may be cliche’, but I want to thank all of those who have ever inspired me to write a column.
My 1997 Geo Metro (a.k.a. The Tic-Tac and Bullet-Wounded Death Machine) inspired a number of spin-offs, such as columns comparing many athletes to my luxurious ladies magnet. Among the many who are about as reliable as a Geo Metro in a rain storm include the Clausen brothers and former Mississippi State quarterback Wayne Madkin.
Darth Visor himself Steve Spurrier made my brain churn last season for ways to defeat the powerful Florida offense. Nick Saban asked the media how he should prepare the Tigers to battle Rex Grossman.
Tonya Harding, the queen of any local trailer park, and her ex Jeff Gillooly could have clubbed Grossman or Jabar Gaffney. But they were too busy competing for “White Trash Couple of the Year” with Pam Anderson and Kid Rock and the recently separated Billy Bob Thornton and Angelina Jolie.
Maybe if Saban would have taken my advice and brought Frank Drebin and Nordberg of Naked Gun fame in to stop the Gators, the Tigers would have defeated the Washington Gatorskins/Star Wars hybrid.
Speaking of the crime fighter Nordberg. Excuse me, I meant social outcast Orenthal James Simpson, who brings up a level of column inspiration that ever may be reached.
I personally would like to thank all of those athletes on the coveted 2001 Penal League.
Cecil Collins, thank you for having too much of your grandpa’s cough medicine and jumping through the window of your next door neighbor. Now you train in prison to make license plates.
Michael Irvin and Ray Lewis, thank you for having such an outrageous criminal reputation that when people see you two on the street, they don’t run toward you for autographs. They run away in fear.
And thanks Rae Carruth for showing your agility off the field to run from the police and hide in the trunk of a car. But wait, he pled innocent for conspiracy to commit murder. Hiding from the cops in the trunk shows the actions of an innocent man. He and “The Diesel” probably know at least 15 ways to spell FELONY on a license plate.
Then comes the “Polish Party Machine” Sebastian GHB Janikowski. The kicker who nearly was deported during his stunts on Bourbon Street and in his local watering holes, has been arrested enough for all of us to point our finger and laugh at his constant mishaps.
Off to TV land where I need to give a heart-felt thanks to the casts of “Beverly Hills 90210” and “Saved By the Bell.”
Brandon Walsh, that fine journalist who got his big break working at The Beverly Blaze, inspired with his playboy ways with women, and oh how I love that hair helmet.
And who wouldn’t be inspired by that nerd at Bayside who was strapped to an oil rig with Al Pacino’s “escort” in “Any Given Sunday” and that pot-smoking vixen Valerie Malone.
One person I will not thank is that “Saved By the Bell” clown Dustin Diamond. I hope he enjoys threatening to slap around his three fans with a certain part of his genitalia.
Speaking of women, I thank all the women to ever get under my skin long enough that it boiled over into Off the Cuff. Venting frustration about ex-love interests heals the mind and, beyond popular belief, brings along more love interests. (If Bryan Wideman continues to pump out chauvinist columns on a daily basis after my departure, then my work of passing the torch will be complete).
Thanks to Auburn University. Because of those other Tigers, Shaquille O’Neal reigns pop king over Jimmy Buffett, and Kevin Greene takes the prize of goon of the century.
On a serious note, the passing of Wally Pontiff was one of the toughest things I ever had to write about. His charm and courtesy inspired all who have had the pleasure to talk to him. I strive to be as gracious of a person as he was in his stay on Earth.
Jeremy Glick, Thomas Burnett, Mark Bingham and Todd Beamer from United Flight 93 on Sept. 11 reinvented the definition of heroes. They displayed heroism on that tragic day, and they should inspire all to be as great as they can possibly become.
Lastly, I’ve seen many striving journalists roam the halls of the basement of Hodges Hall. Counting the late nights putting together this newspaper is a number that is too ridiculous to even mention.
So many people devote their days and nights that could be spent anywhere else but in the basement of a dust-filled building that’s been under construction since 1468. Friends that have left before me, those who leave with me and those who will remain behind to keep the rich tradition of excellence at The Reveille have inspired me in more ways than people can fathom.
Thanks for the memories. I may even shed a tear or two as I leave. But remember, tough guys don’t cry. Sometimes.