Richie, Richie, Richie. Or should I call you Dick?
Let’s think about this for a minute:
Your team had actually gained some momentum going into the first half of last Sunday’s road game against the resurgent Tennessee Titans. Your presence at right guard gave rookie third-string quarterback Keith Null some semblance of protection against a strong pass rush. Your 6-foot-3, 324-pound body could’ve helped RB Steven Jackson bust through the middle for a touchdown run.
But just when your team begins threatening in enemy territory, what do you do? You go inexplicably insane for the 203rd time in your career and headbutt a defender, killing your team’s downfield drive faster than Tiger Woods killed his career. Keith Null and your offense lose 15 yards, and you’re stuck trying to gain back yardage that was a struggle to begin with.
And not long after you’ve already redefined the term “bonehead,” you blatantly shove another defender while getting up, roughly three seconds after the whistle had blown the preceding play to a stop. The result of that? Fifteen yards in penalties, 52 pissed-off teammates, 10,000 screaming fans (I’m being generous with that number, St. Louis), a likely $25,000 in fines, and one general manager who picks up the phone and says “You’re f—ing fired!”
Hey Richie, did you not get the memo that your team had scored 12 total touchdowns coming into this game?
To further illustrate what a gigantic moron you actually are, you behaved yourself this way on an offensive line that’s been ravaged by injuries in the midst of protecting three underachieving quarterbacks who throw to hugely inexperienced wide receivers. What’s worse, the team’s other starting guard, Jacob Bell, is done for the rest of the season with a torn hamstring.
Everyone gave you chances, Richie. Your coach made you an offensive captain in October, but I guess that was appropriate given how offensive your personal foul career totals are. (Eleven in four years.) Even after repeated instances of your ridiculous post-whistle bullying, the Rams’ organization put up with you. I’m guessing it was because everyone enjoyed laughing at the irony of your last name, coupled with the fact that you could barely fit into a football jersey.
And yet, even in the midst of how nightmarish of a season the Rams are having, they deemed Incognito’s antics so unacceptable that they released him. You know you’re an assclown when your 1-12 team with an offensive line made of cardboard decides to basically gash itself through the middle with a fishing spear instead of keeping you on the roster.
So congratulations, Richie Rich — you’ve outdone yourself this time, and you’ve earned the illustrious title of Assclown of the Week. You may have not killed your career when you killed that drive on Sunday, but you might’ve come pretty damn close. Hope that headbutt was as close to an enlightening experience as you’ve ever had.