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Chad Ocho Cinco in midnight green? Here we go again…

Goodness gracious, I’ve just realized something rather vital – I haven’t addressed the latest “Chad Johnson to the Eagles” rumors. I should have jumped all over this breaking news from the hearsay spin-cycle. Silly me.

Truth be told, I would totally be down for a little Chad Ocho Cinco in my life. Which is his legal name, by the way. I’m going to go self-retro here and bring back something I wrote way back in August about the ridiculous concept of Chad Johnson legally changing his name.

Chad Johnson is nuts. Oh wait, I’m sorry, I meant to say Chad Ocho Cinco. Yup, he legally changed his name. The worst part is, I don’t even think it’s the correct translation of 85. That would be ochenta y cinco. I refuse to call him this – from now on, he will be referred to on this site as The Human Being Formerly Known as Chad Johnson, THBFKCJ for short. (Editor’s note: I only wanted to see you underneath the purple rain). Be forewarned, as I may be about to blow this way out of proportion, but I think this is reflective of sports these days, in that its seems as though we are straying so far away from the game itself. I know, I know, at the end of the day, it’s a business, and THBFKCJ is just marketing himself. And I recognize the inherent irony in addressing THBFKCJ’s decision to change his name – I’m playing into his marketing ploy to keep himself in the spotlight. Whatever. When you are willing to change your name to the improper Spanish translation of your football number in order to market yourself, something sad has just occurred. If he ever gets traded, will he change his first name to the team he was traded to? Would you root for Eagles Ocho Cinco? Will people start changing their names to advertise products? (Editor’s note: Hi, I’m Zim Crack Cream, and I have a drinking problem. Hi, Zim.) I know how the old saying goes – what’s in a name? Well, apparently not dignity. Okay, enough ranting, I have to go get a “Love Classified” tattooed on my forehead so I can pick up chicks at bars. (Editor’s note: How is he going to fit “Enjoys long walks on the beach, candlelit dinners and weeping profusely during ‘The Notebook’” on his forehead?)

Ah, what a cynical Pundit I was back in August. Continue reading

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