Watching Jim Irsay try to kick up the dust on a tampering investigation against the Commanders for allegedly, possibly, contacting Andrew Luck to see whether he’d unretire before the franchise signed Carson Wentz is really the second-funniest NFL story of the year.
The funniest NFL story of the year is the thought that Luck would have unretired after years of physical and emotional pain, organizational mismanagement and self-doubt to play for *comedic pause* Daniel Snyder and the Washington Commanders.
Trevor Ruszkowski/USA TODAY Sports (Luck); Geoff Burke/USA TODAY Sports (Snyder)
I understand Washington’s philosophy as it pertains to the position, which was akin to knocking on every door in the NFL and asking whether they had a quarterback to spare (curiously, except for when it came to Lamar Jackson). The Commanders admitted to literally calling every team in the NFL and asking about what it would take to get their signal-caller. We can still dream of the Jim Halpert–like face Chiefs general manager Brett Veach made when he hung up the phone.
It is equally as enjoyable to dream about the private conversations Luck had after receiving a call—if indeed he received one—from someone associated with the most notoriously corrupt and incompetent franchise in football, amid his own personal quest for joy and fulfillment. Read the ESPN.com piece about present-day Luck again. He’s fishing, skiing, making breakfast for his daughter, attending college and planning to channel the uncertainty of his life’s first phase into the youth of America. But, hey, before you get to that, would you like to finish third in the NFC East … in a good year?
When Tom Brady retired, I wrote that he will not officially be retired until the day buddy Josh McDaniels calls and the Raiders are 8–4 and Jimmy Garoppolo has sustained some kind of unfortunate injury and they desperately need the GOAT to reembody everything he was trying to leave behind for a taste of the structured adrenaline he built his life around. Football is addictive. That will be the make-or-break moment.
Poor Luck, who doesn’t seem to have received an offer anywhere nearly as compelling. It wasn’t Bill Belichick tampering on the eve of a playoff game or Sean Payton asking him to run the pinball offense. Frank Reich, then the coach of the Colts, pulled over and texted Luck the lyrics to a song by The Police begging him to come back to the same franchise that scared him off in the first place. Then, maybe, someone from the Commanders. If those were the only two messages on my dating app, I think I would have considered a monastic lifestyle.
Teams don’t care about players finding peace away from football, and just like Luck was pestered—or allegedly pestered—Brady will be hounded by goons throughout the season prioritizing their own contract extensions over the idea that a man is finally trying to get his you-know-what together. Every time Brady quote-tweets some report about him coming out of retirement to play for the Dolphins, a piece of my soul sinks. I would imagine the feeling is mutual.
At least in Luck’s case, this situation was probably less of a nagging pull back into an old addiction and more like an absurdist telegram from a former life; an invitation to laugh, sort of like seeing a picture of yourself in eighth grade with frosted tips.
Good job, good effort, Washington. At least in a few months when a sale is finalized, the idea would seem a little less like comedy.
