The bastard beat me to it.
http://www.kansascity.com/sports/chi...ry/181461.html
The interview and subsequent column series I did with and about Larry Johnson sparked the typical feedback: People bashed Carl Peterson; people questioned Larry’s grammar and contract demands.
The interview/columns also ignited a steady stream of Priest Holmes questions.
Chiefs football fans are extremely reluctant to let go of Priest Holmes. He’s like Jimmy Hoffa’s body — everybody wants to see it again, dead or alive. Chiefs fans want a definitive “No, I’m never playing again” statement from Priest Holmes, and they’re not going to quit asking me and others about Holmes until they get one.
Priest Holmes has no intention of playing tackle football again. Matter of fact, Priest probably has no intention of playing flag football again. Let me take it a step further: Priest won’t play Xbox football again.
Not without a new contract, something that is highly unlikely for a running back who will be 34 in October and has a history of getting injured almost every football season.
That’s all just opinion. Priest never told me that. It’s just my read of the situation. That’s been my read since Holmes was spotted in a suite munching nachos during a 2005 game. Priest is done with football. The game gave him all he ever wanted — a free trip to the University of Texas, a Super Bowl ring and $15 million to $20 million. Game over.
The constant medical evaluations of his neck and spine are simply steps in a dance he must do with the Chiefs to protect the signing bonus he received before the 2003 season. Had Holmes announced his retirement after the 2005 season, Peterson probably would’ve asked for a prorated portion of Holmes’ $10 million signing bonus. So Holmes got a doctor’s note, and his absence is excused. Oh, it’s also frustrating.
It’s my contention that many NFL running backs/players (fullback Mike Alstott being a prime example) play with similar or worse spine/neck conditions than the one that is keeping Holmes off the field.
It’s also my belief that most NFL players are foolish and continue to play with dangerous injuries because their biggest fear is getting a real job and losing the spotlight.
I respect Holmes’ decision to walk away. He never had a real interest in hogging the limelight. He didn’t let his ego or a desire to make the Hall of Fame keep him in the game. He weighed the risks, spotted Larry Johnson approaching in the rearview mirror and exited the highway. Smart move.
Holmes executed a plan to land a large contract. The plan wasn’t totally honorable — it included an agent switch and a public-relations ploy/T-shirt vending company (Team Priest) initially disguised as a charity organization — but Holmes gave everything he had on the field.
He didn’t cheat Lamar Hunt or Chiefs fans, scoring 83 touchdowns in 61 games.
In retrospect, Priest Holmes was a bargain. Let’s see whether the Arizona Cardinals get 83 touchdowns out of Edgerrin James, who will earn $25 million in three seasons with the Cardinals.
The lone complaint about Holmes is that he never pretended to love Kansas City. It was always just business with Holmes. After he was injured against San Diego, he never rejoined the team and supported his teammates from the sideline or in practice. Holmes disappeared and went on with his life.
He was the original Roger Clemens of football, a reminder that big business interferes with the tradition of teamwork. Holmes was a mercenary, a contract runner.
Rather than worry about Holmes’ football plans, we should wish him well in retirement and hope that financial concerns never force him to consider a comeback. He put on a great show and earned every penny Lamar Hunt gave him.
