...this business about this hall of fame. The one that cannot bring itself to induct Drew Pearson or Cliff Harris. The one that is a hall of fame only in name, what a shame, what a shame, so lame, so lame. These two individuals who defined football on offense and defense, especially for dallas cowboy observers. Harris, an early balder, tough as dirt, gave more than he got, and he got plenty. No doubt he paid the price for his induction. Won multiple Super Bowls, played in more, was always in Hawaii for the pro bowl, accolades upon accolades. Played 10 years for the same team as they reached the heights of success. Pearson, the dude, the cool operator with the superafro, the slick, the sideline artist, the class and with class, the original 88. Before Irvin, before the first Bryant, before Dez. The Hail Mary! Swann and Stallworth are both in. It's disgusting. For both players, the career numbers are entirely sufficient. Theoretical explanations and hypothetical understandings are futile. The pure envy involved, the absolute transparency of the situation. Both first team all decade for the 1970s, as voted on by the hall of political games itself. But this is not a pitch or debate, this is an expression. There are others too. Harvey. Everson. Too Tall went 7-0 as a professional heavyweight boxer! An expression of peace, only once the turmoil is tamed. But the expression only validates and makes conviction stronger. There is worry about the safety Darren Woodson, who was always the best player on the field when he played. Obvious, it was. Perhaps the best all around special teams player of his era as well. Was probably the emergency QB, Kicker, Punter, deep Snapper, Tight End, and MLB. One of those players. Of course, it is universally known and remembered. Darren Woodson. Mainly, the therapeutical benefit of this expression is real. Life can continue the predictable and unpredictable. Controllable and uncontrollable should be determined. All emotions should be indulged in moderately. Decisions should be decisive, after appropriate consideration. Finally, exhibit class. In all it's forms. These two men, Cliff and Drew, have too much class to point out the obvious. Other priorities have risen above the slight. The wrong must be made right by others. They have moved on. The 70s was a long time ago. Ain't that the truth. Both went on to productive lives, quietly and content with what they, and the team, accomplished on the field. The accolades, memories, and championships. Plural. It was all there. Another thing, why does one state, Ohio, get the Pro Football Hall of Fame and the a Rock and Roll Hall of a Fame? Tripping Daisy and the Swinging Ds will probably get screwed too.
...this business about this hall of fame. The one that cannot bring itself to induct Drew Pearson or Cliff Harris. The one that is a hall of fame only in name, what a shame, what a shame, so lame, so lame. These two individuals who defined football on offense and defense, especially for dallas cowboy observers. Harris, an early balder, tough as dirt, gave more than he got, and he got plenty. No doubt he paid the price for his induction. Won multiple Super Bowls, played in more, was always in Hawaii for the pro bowl, accolades upon accolades. Played 10 years for the same team as they reached the heights of success. Pearson, the dude, the cool operator with the superafro, the slick, the sideline artist, the class and with class, the original 88. Before Irvin, before the first Bryant, before Dez. The Hail Mary! Swann and Stallworth are both in. It's disgusting. For both players, the career numbers are entirely sufficient. Theoretical explanations and hypothetical understandings are futile. The pure envy involved, the absolute transparency of the situation. Both first team all decade for the 1970s, as voted on by the hall of political games itself. But this is not a pitch or debate, this is an expression. There are others too. Harvey. Everson. Too Tall went 7-0 as a professional heavyweight boxer! An expression of peace, only once the turmoil is tamed. But the expression only validates and makes conviction stronger. There is worry about the safety Darren Woodson, who was always the best player on the field when he played. Obvious, it was. Perhaps the best all around special teams player of his era as well. Was probably the emergency QB, Kicker, Punter, deep Snapper, Tight End, and MLB. One of those players. Of course, it is universally known and remembered. Darren Woodson. Mainly, the therapeutical benefit of this expression is real. Life can continue the predictable and unpredictable. Controllable and uncontrollable should be determined. All emotions should be indulged in moderately. Decisions should be decisive, after appropriate consideration. Finally, exhibit class. In all it's forms. These two men, Cliff and Drew, have too much class to point out the obvious. Other priorities have risen above the slight. The wrong must be made right by others. They have moved on. The 70s was a long time ago. Ain't that the truth. Both went on to productive lives, quietly and content with what they, and the team, accomplished on the field. The accolades, memories, and championships. Plural. It was all there. Another thing, why does one state, Ohio, get the Pro Football Hall of Fame and the a Rock and Roll Hall of a Fame? Tripping Daisy and the Swinging Ds will probably get screwed too.