He Hate Me. At the risk of making this all about me, I’m going to make this all about me. Last week, I was the pool reporter for the Pro Football Writers of America covering Seattle Seahawks practices. I was standing on the sidelines of practice Friday, inside the Arizona State University football practice bubble, when, after a play was run, Doug Baldwin strode over to me until he was right in front of me. He was not happy. He said angrily: “You’re into this mediocre receiver s—, right? I read your s—.”
What? Huh? I truly didn’t know what he was talking about.
Baldwin had anger in his eyes. “You’re one of them!” he said. “I read your s—.”
With that, he walked back to practice. Here’s a starting NFL receiver, during a Super Bowl practice, interrupting his role in this practice to come over to a sportswriter to rip him.
This is apparently what Baldwin was referring to, from last week’s Monday Morning Quarterback column, in the wake of Baldwin losing a fumble, dropping a pass, and catching six balls in the NFC championship win over Green Bay. I wrote: “Stop, just stop, Seahawks, with the we-don’t-get-no-respect rants. It’s unbecoming. Doug Baldwin, you’re a good player. But that stuff gets old. Very old, particularly when you and Jermaine Kearse miss balls early, make some plays late, then somehow get motivated against the doubters. Whatever all that means.”
Baldwin did something so distasteful after scoring in the Super Bowl that NBC wouldn’t even air the complete replay of his catch and “celebration.”
He should spend less time finding phony ways to motivate himself and more time learning what adulthood’s like.
