Randy Moss was loved and hated, awe-inspiring and lazy, respected and disrespectful, a great teammate and a locker room enemy. Sometimes he was all of these things at once, even within the same game.
He poured out his heart (and his wallet) for disadvantaged kids in Minnesota and back home in West Virginia, but once berated a Vikings caterer claiming he wouldn’t feed the, uh, stuff, to his dog.
He preached to his fellow teammates about the importance of film study, but would routinely take whole plays off during games sometimes barely moving out of his stance. Randy knew how to work the referees and get calls no other receiver could get, but he would blow up at them at a moment’s notice when a call didn’t go his way.
When involved, Randy changed the game like no receiver in NFL history. When bored, Randy was a highly paid blocking dummy, without ever bothering to block. When Randy was in a good mood, he was the ultimate teammate. When Randy was in a foul mood, he was a locker room pariah. In a sport where the team is bigger than any individual, Randy Moss always did his own thing. It’s why he was so loved by his fans, and so loathed by his detractors.
The one aspect of Randy Moss that no one ever questioned was his athleticism. Moss grew up in a small town in West Virginia where he played football, basketball, and ran track in high school. Among his accomplishments in each sport:
- Track – Competed for sophomore year only, winning state championships in 100 and 200 meters.
- Basketball – Twice named West Virginia basketball player of the year, where he was a teammate of future NBA player Jason Williams.
- Football – Led the team to back-to-back state championships where he played wide receiver, defensive back, kick returner, punt returner, kicker, and punter. Named WV player of the year in 1994, a Parade All-American in 1995, and one of the 50 greatest high school football players ever in 2009.
Moss was recruited to play football by just about every school in America during his senior season. Lou Holtz, then the head coach at Notre Dame and a guy who coached for 44 years at 11 different schools, said Moss was the greatest high school football player he’d ever seen. Bobby Bowden, whose 55 year career included 34 years at Florida State, said Moss was “as good as Deion Sanders. Deion’s my measuring stick for athletic ability, and this kid was just a bigger Deion.”
Moss’s dream was to play for Holtz at Notre Dame, but a fight and subsequent arrest in high school ended his recruitment. Holtz called friend Bobby Bowden, who had made a name at Florida State taking in troubled youths and harnessing their football gifts.
Again, Moss blew it. He was caught with marijuana while serving probation, and was dismissed from the ‘Noles too. Wanting to avoid losing another year of eligibility (he redshirted his freshman year at FSU), Moss transferred to then 1-AA school Marshall, about an hour away from his home in Rand, West Virginia.
While at Marshall, Moss caught a touchdown pass in all 28 games he played, most of them from future NFL quarterback Chad Pennington. In his sophomore season at Marshall, their first as a 1-A school, Moss caught 25 touchdown passes which set a 1-A season TD record. In just two years, Moss amassed 174 catches, 3,529 yards, and 54 touchdowns. Most importantly, he stayed out of the legal limelight – a first for him since early high school. He won the Biletnikoff Award for the nation’s top receiver, and finished fourth in the Heisman balloting behind Peyton Manning, Ryan Leaf, and Charles Woodson.
The 1998 draft was striking because it showed how little faith NFL teams had in Moss’s character. The three other Heisman finalists – Manning, Leaf, and Woodson – were drafted first, second, and fourth respectively.
It wasn’t until pick #21 where the Minnesota Vikings, already flushed with talent at wide receiver with future hall-of-famer Cris Carter and standout Jake Reed, took a chance on Moss. Dennis Green, Minnesota’s coach, had taken a liking to Moss during pre-draft interviews. He looked at Moss as a personal reclamation project, someone he could groom into an outstanding citizen with otherworldly football talent.
In 1998, with Randall Cunningham at the helm and Carter, Reed, Robert Smith, and Moss the newcomer, the Vikings broke every major record for team offense in NFL history. They never scored less than 24 points in a game, chalking up 556 total points through the year. The team had 52 plays of 25+ yards and 22 plays of 40+ yards. No other team had more than 16. The Vikings finished 15-1 but fell short of a Super Bowl.
Randy Moss, however, had established himself as an offensive weapon unlike anyone else in the league. (Moss so devastated the NFC Central that the Brett Favre-led Packers used their top three draft picks in 1999 all on defensive backs.)
The fact that he’s called one of the “most talented” receivers (and not “best”) is a testament to everything else that Randy did outside the lines. In the 1999 playoffs against the eventual Super Bowl champion St. Louis Rams, Moss had one of his best career days. He caught 9 balls for 188 yards and 2 touchdowns, but got so frustrated with a referee that he squirted him with a water bottle from the sidelines.
And so it went with Randy – every amazing thing he did on the field seemed to be partially offset by a boneheaded act off it. There was the referee squirting, the “nudging” a traffic cop with the hood of his car, the “I play when I want to play” quote (and supporting evidence), the quitting on plays and games, the ridiculous outfits, the ridiculous hair, and the truly bizarre press conferences. His act became stale in Minnesota before it became stale in Oakland, then New England, then Minnesota again, then finally Tennessee.
At every stop, Randy was looking for a new beginning. But at every stop, Randy was just Randy all over again. Moss’s enormous talent was overtaken by his even bigger ego in Minnesota, and he was traded to Oakland in 2005. In two unspectacular years there, he had 102 catches and 11 touchdowns. The optimism with which he came to Oakland quickly fizzled, and he was traded to the Patriots prior to the 2007 season.
After three great seasons with New England, he felt he deserved a new contract extension. When he didn’t receive one prior to the 2010 season (the last year of his contract) Moss quit on the team saying he “did not feel wanted” by New England. The Patriots then traded him to the Vikings, where he played four unremarkable games before being waived. He finished the 2010 season with the Titans, who took a flyer on him but said they do not plan to re-sign him for 2011.
Even through all the turmoil, his numbers leave no doubt as to his statistical legacy. Over 13 seasons in the NFL, Moss amassed 954 catches (8th all-time), 14,858 yards (5th), and 153 touchdowns (2nd). His per season numbers for catches and yards are almost exactly on par with Jerry Rice, widely considered the best wide receiver (and arguably player) in NFL history. At Moss’s career pace, he’d finish with almost 30 touchdowns more than Rice.
So will Randy Moss be enshrined in Canton?
My answer would be this: of course he will, but not right away.
For all of his talent and statistics, Moss was a locker room headache – a stringy powder keg who could catch three touchdown passes then explode in the post game presser. Writers remember that, and writers are the Hall of Fame voters. Maybe after a few years, when a class is looking particularly weak, Moss will get his ticket punched into Canton. Hall of fame voters will, in due time, fade some of their memories of Moss. When those negative connotations leave his career, they’ll see that his numbers warrant not only HOF consideration, but talk amongst the best ever at his position.
That’s how I’ll remember him, too. Randy Moss was the best athlete I’ve ever seen on a football field, and it’s not close. Moss had the Usain Bolt-like ability to look like he was running 80% while pulling away from the fastest players in the world. On the off chance that he didn’t outrun a cornerback or the ball was underthrown, Moss had a leaping ability on par with his track pedigree. And his hands, those hands that played bigger than his 6’4″ frame, caught almost everything in sight. Many doubted if he had the will to succeed in the NFL, but no one ever wondered if he had the skill.
The only question left is if he’ll stay retired. Moss didn’t file retirement paperwork with the NFL, simply releasing a statement through his agent that he had decided to call it quits. His ego, probably bruised by everything that happened last year (statistically his worst, by far), might be crying out for attention he’s used to getting about this time of year. After all Plaxico Burress, a wide receiver his age and height with not nearly as much talent, just signed a deal with the New York Jets, and he’s been in prison and out of football for the last two years.
Conventional wisdom tells us that this could be Randy just being Randy again, and he’ll be back the minute a team comes calling. But if anything has been made clear over his 13 year career, it’s this: Randy Moss doesn’t much care for conventional wisdom.
