Aaron Rodgers is the bane of existence for a lot of sports writers these days. Preposterously stupid story after impossibly dumb anecdote gets leaked, and we’re left running after him like he’s a dog with IBS — smooth dumps and all. Reasonable human beings have moved on to an approach of “Just tell me when he gets traded,” and I couldn’t co-sign on that outlook more. If only we at Deadspin could be so lucky to be free of the Green Bay quarterback and his ongoing existential meltdown.
Let’s say — and this is purely hypothetical — that we just stopped covering Rodgers. Figuring out how to make up for the loss in traffic would be difficult, but I’m confident we could Moneyball our way to make up the difference via slideshows, Scott Hatteberg, and other loopholes. Obviously, it’d be difficult to cover the Jets if we went through with it, yet it’s the fucking Jets, so that wasn’t a deal breaker.
Of course, my editors pushed back and pushed back after initially refusing to even entertain the prospect at all. Lo and behold, months later, they relented, and it only took me begging within an inch of my job like 73 times.
So, without further ado, it’s my extreme pleasure to announce to you, the internet, that Deadspin has put a coverage pause on Rodgers. That’s right A-A-Ron, go fuck yourself. You’re not interesting, neither is Pat McAfee, and finally, we’re able to better utilize our work days instead of vomiting up 200 words every time Rogers gets indigestion.
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Yes, this is absolutely an internet stunt. There’s an iota of journalistic integrity to it, but the crux of what we’re doing was taken from the Rodgers playbook. And that is, when in doubt, concoct unrelenting, unapologetic ploys for attention. And what better way to do that than to ride the fumes of the most obnoxious, most visible athlete/storyline out right now?
We’re not ESPN or The Athletic, and as a result, our commitment to the bit can be greater than our commitment to covering Rodgers. Could this turn into a three-month shun with occasional unshun-reshun headlines for the big stories to “do our job” but be a dick about it? Yeah, that’s probably what’s going to happen. Ideally, we’re able to hold off breaking the seal as long as possible, or at least until the threat of termination turns into a promise of dismissal.
The best way to temper an egomaniac is to slap them with silence. It’s an Amish technique. I was shunned from age four until my sixth birthday for not saving the excess oil from a can of tuna. And look at how I turned out. Yes, I’m mildly self-absorbed, but at least I have some semblance of self-awareness.
Speaking of which, my self-aggrandization alarm has been buzzing for the past couple of paragraphs, so I’m going to wrap this up. You see that, Rodgers? Less is more — and hopefully what we’re not saying about No. 12 speaks volumes as it relates to how much ink this jackass deserves.
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