The Fontenot

Well, well, well

It seems as though the MetrosexualDome is slowly filling up with a certain kind of Packer. Had Henderson signed with the Vikes last year, it would have fit the pattern as well: solid contributors who maybe weren’t quite as solid as they seemed to be…Packers who could do wonderful things on the field and could royally fuck up as well. (Alright, Longwell didn't ever really fuck up.)  Well-liked, interesting, and (with the exception of Ferguson) able to host television shows.  One thing that's clear: Mr. T is not interested in having those kinds of players on the team.

Ferguson has signed with the Vikings. He’ll probably see a lot of playing time, as the Vikings’ current WR lineup is entirely comprised of former River Dance performers.

I want to come up with something snarky and fan-centric to say about the move, but actually, I think I’ll just say that I wish Ferguson the best. I don’t know what it’s like to have a near-decapitation on the field. It probably didn’t help to get yelled at by Burt on the sidelines with several million people watching.  At least he got Lasik out of it.  I will remember fondly the two touchdowns in the Phillie playoff game that included The Play Which Shall Not Be Named.

Have fun hauling down floaters from Tavaris “How Did I Get Here?” Jackson. I hear Bigby hits harder than an ostrich-mounted jouster.

Go. Really, go.

For those of you who didn't catch the story, former Fox newscaster Bill Maas attempted to re-enact the plot of Go over the weekend.  Notable for us because Maas is an old Packer, but notable, too, because it validates my assertion two weeks ago that Fox anchors do in fact use ecstasy, possibly during broadcasts.  I was a little off on the particulars, but still, give me some credit for intuition.

Here's a bit from the ESPN story about Maas and his lady-friend:

   The two were arrested Friday night after authorities stopped Maas' sport utility vehicle along Illinois Route 116. They asked to search the vehicle after Maas appeared nervous, officials said. The search uncovered a .22-caliber revolver, 5 grams of suspected marijuana, 6 grams of suspected cocaine and 28 pills of Ecstasy, police said.

What have we learned here?  Very little.  There's a whole blog dedicated to Maas, I found, although it's been defunct for awhile, this incident has really provided it with an apt, symmetrical, and aesthetically appealing ending.  Here's the police pics from that site.

My suggestion is that the Lions bring in Maas to interview for GM.

In other mediocre developments, Kenny "The HGH" Peterson got busted for steroids a little while back.  Peterson stands out in my mind as a solid symbol for the Charmin draft-era, maybe even better than Jamal Reynolds, as he so completely exemplified averageness, whereas Reynolds just ate the big one.

Bye Bye Boogie

On March 7, without much fanfare, the Packers released longtime Packer fullback William Henderson. The coaches had their eyes on a young new prospect and, well, William was 36. Circle of Life, as they say. On his way out, he got 79 words in the Press-Gazette. 

Okay, so I know I'm about four months late on this. You'll have to excuse me for not having a blog then. But I feel the need to give the guy they call Boogie a little more love. I think he deserves it, and, as Mom says, it's always a good idea to write thank you notes.

If you read a bunch of articles on WH, as I just finished doing, you will see that he is often described as a "rock" and a "workhorse." It's true. He played in 188 games as a Packer. Only Favre, Starr and Nitschke played in more. And no other Packer running back has caught more passes. Of course, Williams' greatest gift to Titletown was blocking like a champ for Dorsey and Ahman. And even a little Noah Herron, just to keep it interesting. When the Rolexes were handed out to the linemen in the years of plenty, I hope there was one set aside for him too. There should have been. 

The really cool thing about Henderson, though, the thing I like best, is in the small print. That is, he seems to be a particularly decent and interesting human being. A good-natured well-read guy who likes to paint and design interiors in his spare time,  who is amazed by his kids' "unbelievable, unprovoked love," who does tons of charity work because he means it. I know, Eugene Robinson was supposed to be this guy too and then he pulled a Hugh Grant before Super Bowl XXXIII.  James "Top Shelf" Lofton disappointed people too. But I'm guessing Boogie is the real deal. While other guys would get pumped pre-game by listening to, oh, I don't know, Rascal Flatts and Chamillionaire on their Ipods, our man William slept for a half hour beside his locker, with his feet resting on his bench, presumably for circulation-related reasons. He worships his parents. His favorite actor is Sidney Poitier. You get the picture.

Sure, a Henderson highlight reel would run maybe two minutes long. He was like your dad, or uncle, or grandfather, who put in a hard day's work for a long long time and then had a simple, quiet retirement party at the local supper club, with some witty toasts, and a dinner of baked chicken and cheesecake. He knew his role and did his job well, day in day out. No flash, all substance. Where my metaphor breaks down of course is that most of our dads don't have a Super Bowl ring and cannot squat 4,000 pounds. I'm sorry. This is the best I could do.

I don't want to belabor the point. Just let me just end with this. Next time you're at a bar, in a Packers jersey, drunk, and your brain stem is casting out a net for something or someone to go WHOO! for, consider Good Will Henderson. Raise your bottle of Michelob Ultra and pour a little out in his memory.

Because, seriously, we should celebrate a guy like Boogie. He is one of the good guys in sports, and for twelve years we were lucky he was one of us.

Respeck.

Later, Alligator

Live it one more time and say goodbye to our silky friend Mr. Freeman, who has re-signed with the Pack in order to retire as the team's fifth all-time leading receiver.

Oh, I Didn't Know I Was Supposed to Fill That Form Out

Sean Jones, former stellar Packer and member of one of the greates d-lines in football history, has been indicted on big-time fraud charges.  Potential prison-sentence: 30 years.

The Agony and the Ecstacy

Even though I hated the guy when he was in GB, I can't help but feel a little bad for Ahmad Carroll. He leaves GB a pariah, then five minutes later Jacksonville dumps him after he's arrested for gun and drug possession. If that weren't bad enough, the cops took away his E, which could come in really handy right about now. But Carroll should take heart. He may never have the respectable career of say, T-Buck, who, after leaving GB due to similar problems (big mouth, big salary, big mistakes) played with five other teams, including the '01 Pats. But I think he may have it in him to pull off a Mandarich. As we'd all like to forget, after losing the battle with his ego and a particularly stubborn "parasite," Mandarich left GB. He went north to Michigan. He soul-searched for a few years. He tried to forget that Incredible Bust cover. On top of that, his brother died from cancer.

But then a humbled, centered Mandarich made a comeback. Quietly for a change. To quote an article from the Canadian website SlamSports:

Tony began to mature. He went to college and decided he would pursue a career in law enforcement. He was all set to enroll in a police academy until a September day when the crisp morning and turning of the leaves brought Mandarich's mind back to football. "I thought 'what do I have to lose by going back?' My name is already crap in the NFL. I'm already a bust. I've been out of the league for three years. I had everything to gain." Mandarich began to work his butt off. He played racquetball to improve his foot speed. He pumped iron again. And when Indianapolis decided to give him a shot, he was ready.

Mandarich only lasted three seasons with the Colts. He never proved to be a great lineman, just good enough. But he made NFL money, and he probably sleeps easier now knowing he gave it a second chance.

So. A steady diet of racquetball and a weekend visit to Promises in LA and AC should be back on track. And if that doesn't work out, and since the police academy isn't going to happen, he could always just skip a few steps and jump right into commercial photography.