This makes no sense. None.
Waiving Randy Moss is a synonym for "the season is over." That is what Vikings head coach Brad Childress is saying at 2-5, with the team's next three games coming against the Cardinals and the two teams ahead in the division in an NFC that could be described as anything but "difficult." The season is over.
And so is Childress' credibility...and probably his coaching career. We'll get to that later.
Reports are surfacing that Childress acted alone when he waived Randy Moss today, that no one in the organization—the front office, the owner, the players—had an inkling this blunder was going to occur. And then around noon, the atom bomb went off.
A little over four weeks since he traded a third-round pick for Moss, Childress cut Moss for, well, being Moss: for being too honest for his own good during a press conference and not accepting the role of decoy on a losing team with open arms—for having the temerity to doubt Brad.
That's the only sane explanation, although sanity doesn't seem to have much room in this scene, so maybe I'm wrong.
Four weeks...you can't make this stuff up.
Football-wise, what could Childress be thinking? Percy Harvin, allowed to return to his natural position in the slot, has been his dynamic self with Moss on the team. Adrian Peterson and the offensive line have the rushing game chugging along. And had anyone seen how pathetically anemic Brett Favre and the rest of the passing offense looked previous to Moss's arrival?
Moss's stats aren't eye-popping, though he does have two touchdowns, but his impact is there.
And who have the Vikings lost to? The 5-2 New York Jets, the 6-1 New England Patriots, and the division-leading Packers. Not Swiss cheese, and they could have been wins with a play here or there. The schedule was about to turn. Sidney Rice is about to come back. Thanks to the NFC, the Vikings still had a shot. But now the season is over.
It will be insulting when Childress tries to claim the season isn't over, that the team is better for cutting Randy Moss. Childress will actually puff his chest out and believe the words that are coming out of his mouth when he says, "He wasn't a good fit for us. We needed to address depth at other positions." How he'll be able to say that with a straight face and be an employed football coach will be mind-blowing.
This makes no sense. And yet, it makes complete sense for an insecure, neurotic, controlling person like Brad Childress to cut Randy Moss. This is Childress' Mona Lisa, his Sistine Chapel, a masterpiece and testament to the delusional, power-crazed mind of a sad football coach who was the only person in the world unaware of who Randy Moss was. And who Brett Favre was, for that matter.
Who's in control!? Brad's in control!
That was the biggest problem last year with the team—making sure people knew Brad was in control. Making sure Brad got credit. Brad would rather lose on his terms than win—period.
He doesn't want to be questioned by lowly reporters or serf players or nerdy front office management. Brad is Alexander the Great and Genghis Khan and Vince Lombardi and Braveheart all rolled into one 5'10'' pudgy, middle-aged man who more than likely has male menopause.
But really, he's just an awkward, paranoid worrier. How he got so paranoid without drug use is a wonder, as well.
It's ironic, though, that his want and need to throw his muscle around, to keep some semblance of security in his insecure life, to show who's the boss around the organization, will ultimately cause him to lose this job.
Owner Zygi Wilf can't be happy with the second-rate, slapdash, comedy show Winter Park was today—and reports agree. The players can't be happy with a head coach cutting the cord on the season—and reports agree.
There is a small group of Vikings faithful, the real crazed and deranged who live out where the buses don't go, that think Wilf might fire Childress tonight, promote Leslie Frazier and not waive Randy Moss. Those people have tried drugs, clearly.
And there is the minuscule possibility that the Vikings beat Arizona on Sunday (which actually isn't that minuscule of a possibility, even without Moss), then beat Chicago the next week, and have the chance at being 4-5 with an upcoming home game against Green Bay. If that happens, Chilly's desperate gamble here will actually pay off and, oh man, will I be eating crow.
But what will happen is Wilf and Childress will perform damage control here, the right things will be said, some good public spin will occur, some form of order will be restored and the season (or show, as it were) will go on. At the end of it, when the Vikings are 5-11—maybe, maybe 6-10—with their players having packed it in weeks ago, Wilf will call Childress up to his office and give him his pink slip.
And Brad Childress will never work in the NFL again.
What player will take this man seriously? What front office will? What owner will look at Childress and say, "This guy, this guy who traded a third-round pick for Randy Moss and then cut him outright without consultation with anyone in the organization about four weeks later, this is the guy who's going to win me a Super Bowl. Three of them, in fact."
He's done coaching in the NFL; I guess he could end up as a team manager for some team, cleaning towels and cups and whatnot. Maybe he'll slide into the under-the-bridge world of the NCAA. He'll probably end up as an accountant somewhere, though, working overtime and hating his boss. And his co-workers will laugh at him behind his back.
"That's the putz who cut Randy Moss. What a maroon."