The entire flubby clan is looking forward to football season.



I find myself more patient with idiot coworkers this week. I let people cut in traffic much more than I normally do. I’ve been doling out high-fives to strangers. The soundtrack to my life is awash with angelic choruses. I feel that we are all on the cusp of something magical and wondrous. After months staring at the television in utter disappointment, the wait is over. Real live football returns Sunday night on NBC when the Redskins and Colts meet in the less than meaningless, utterly pointless but oh-so-wonderful Hall of Fame Game. THANK YOU JEBUS AND ALL GLORY TO THE HYPNOTOAD FOR THE PRIVILEGE OF WATCHING JIM SORGI PLAY FOR TWO SERIES!!!

For me, more than most, the preseason arrives not a moment too soon. I had become so starved for football entertainment that I had begun working out a buddy-cop sitcom pilot based solely on this picture of Kellen Winslow:

One’s a slick-talking tight end who knows his way around a battlefield.
The other rocks the white man’s fro and has an invisible friend named Leon—together they solve crimes!!!

This weekend Art Monk will finally be enshrined in the Professional Football Hall of Fame in Canton, OH. KSK has received a copy of the speech he plans to read upon his induction and it follows below in its entirety, and might I say, that guy is still all class.

Oh man, I can’t even tell you guys how great it feels to be standing up here. After all these years I’d begun to resign myself to the idea that I’d never see the day my bust was placed in Canton, but it just shows you the importance of perseverance.

As many of you know I am a man of humble beginnings. Growing up as the son of a welder and a maid in White Plains I never dreamed of the possibility of making my living as a professional athlete. In fact, I was more interested in becoming a musician like my cousin Thelonious for many of my younger years. Fortunately for me I soon gravitated towards football, a game that has provided me with nearly endless opportunities.

After we won our first Super Bowl I was able to open the Art Monk Football Camp where some 14,000 children have learned the craft of the game we all love so much. Spending so many years working with the camp provided experiences as rewarding as any on-field accomplishments, but the three Super Bowls were pretty great too.

Speaking of the Super Bowls, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank all of my teammates and coaches over the years. Each and every one of you are apart of this honor, and I surely wouldn’t be here without your support. I’d also like to thank the Cooke family for drafting me into the tremendous Washington Redskins organization as well as Coach Joe Gibbs who taught me more about how to be an upstanding Christian man than anyone outside of my father.

Of course I can’t conclude without thanking the members of the media who have supported my induction for so many years. There is something incredibly humbling about having thousands of tireless fans passionately campaigning on your behalf. Today I share this honor with all of you, and thank you for your support.

With all that being said, I’d like to address one more group before I go sit back down to listen to my friend and teammate Darrell Green.

To Peter King, Cliff Christl, Paul Zimmerman, and any of my other current and former detractors, consider yourselves humbly invited to…
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HOLY SHIT! THEY LET TWO(!) REDSKINS IN THE HALL OF FAME(!), AT ONCE!

DARRELL GREEN?! FIRST BALLOT!

ART MONK?!?! FINALLY!!!

I JUST CRAPPED MY PANTS! AND I DON’T EVEN CARE!

I’m still not anywhere near Canton. Ohio blows.

This post was written by Jake Jarmel and edited by Elaine Benes.