George Costanza pink-slipped from Vandelay Industries.
Nolan Ryan uninvited to Globe Life Field.
Donald Trump booed at a CPAC conference.
Vince Young fired by Texas.
Until Bevo gets laid off for not standing up, Vince Young will be remembered for somehow – unfathomably – losing the cushiest, most customized job in the history of the University of Texas.
Young was fired recently by UT for essentially not being himself. The former quarterback and legendary Longhorn was in 2014 awarded a $50,000 part-time gig that required him to show up, shake hands and tell his story. For all he’d done with his legs in the past and for what he could do for Texas’ future by simply lifting a pinkie, Young was basically gifted a lifetime appointment as senior consultant to the Dept. of Underwater Basket Weaving.
But just as the NFL, common sense and money management were for Vince, it proved too much to ask.
In a letter dated March 1 the school terminated Young’s official position as “development officer and football camp specialist,” citing poor work performance. His transgressions included two arrests for drunk driving (including one last month), repeated missed appearances and failure to communicate with supervisors, snowballing into a fatal “failing to maintain standards of conduct suitable and acceptable to the university.”
Again, this is Vince Young we’re talking about. The artist formerly known as “Invincible.”
Delivered a National Championship. Heisman Trophy runner-up. 30-2 record. Number retired. Just a statue short of being a Saint.
He’s as successfully synonymous with Longhorns football as Darrell Royal, Earl Campbell and Ricky Williams. It’s unthinkable how bad and for how long Young would have to had performed to get fired from a periphery job by an institution that absolutely reveres him.
Imagine, for example, what it would take for the Mavericks to someday turn their back on Dirk Nowitzki.
Paul McCartney arrested for jaywalking Abbey Road.
Roger Staubach evicted from the Ring of Honor.
Hugh Hefner blacklisted from Playboy Mansion.
Vince Young fired by Texas.
Young is to Texas football what Band-Aid is to ouchies: comforting brand symmetry.
The highlight of his fourth-and-championship, 9-yard scamper into the Rose Bowl end zone to beat USC in 2006 will bring a smile to any Longhorn, anywhere, any time and – in a state where football is religion – remains one of the sport’s most identifiable, iconic plays. That game, in which he accounted for 467 yards and three touchdowns to single-handedly snap the Trojans’ 34-game winning streak, has been daily fodder on the Longhorn Network for eight years and has fueled Matthew McConaughey’s back-to-back-to-back “alrights” for two decades.
Stan Lee would’ve had a difficult time conjuring a more powerful Longhorn superhero.
Davey O’Brien Award winner. De facto Heisman winner, since Reggie Bush was forced to vacate. His No. 10 was anointed untouchable in 2008. Friends with Snoop Dogg, Oprah and Jamie Foxx. The Texas Senate even proclaimed Feb. 20, 2007 as “Vince Young Day” throughout the state. In December, he’ll be inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame.
He’ll go in, apparently, without an official association with UT.
Watching him return the keys to the city will be one of the state’s toughest blows since Big Tex caught on fire at the State Fair in 2012. If it’s going to lose Young as a favored son, Austin might as well bulldoze Sixth Street, impose selective prohibition on Shiner Bock, put SXSW up for adoption and disavow everything “weird.”
For all the superlatives he achieved, Young is again inexplicably prompting the sighs of Texas.
Tom Brady benched in the Super Bowl.
Willie Nelson unwelcomed to his picnic.
Music videos dumped by MTV.
Vince Young fired by Texas.
With his size, speed and uncanny knack for slithering away from tackles, Young was seemingly designed to re-boot the position of NFL quarterback. He twice made the Pro Bowl and was 2006 Rookie of the Year, but his unorthodox throwing motion and uneven relationship with Titans’ head coach Jeff Fisher snuffed his stardom.
Young was eventually beaten out of a job by Kerry Collins and cut by Tennessee in 2010. He signed with the Eagles, peculiarly labeling them a “dream team.” But after going only 1-2 as their starter, he was released again and bounced around before ultimately receiving the NFL’s official kiss of death: waived by the Cleveland Browns.
As recently as 2017 he attempted a comeback with Canadian Football League’s Saskatchewan Roughriders, but suffered a hamstring injury and was released before ever taking a regular-season snap.
Young’s on-field legend is written. Now his off-field life beckons.
Davey O’Brien removed from his trophy.
Rafael Nadal banned from Roland Garros.
Buc-ee’s re-zoned to back roads.
Vince Young fired by Texas.
Texas’ current basketball coach finds himself on the hot seat for underwhelming performance, but for an immortal to get sacked from a no-show job he must be Shaka Dumb.
Or maybe Chaka Con?
This is not to infer that Young is a bad guy. I’ve interviewed him through the years in person and on radio and he’s always been affable and entertaining. His demise may be self-inflicted, but he’s no R. Kelly, Michael Jackson or even David Irving.
He graduated from UT in 2013 with a degree in youth and community studies. Some of his decisions and actions, however – personally and financially – have hinted at anything but time spent at an institution of higher learning.
At the 2006 NFL Scouting Combine he reportedly scored a 16 (out of 50) on the Wonderlic Intelligence Test (NFL veteran Ryan Fitzpatrick scored a 48). At Tennessee he was known to lose interest in meetings led by veteran offensive coordinator Norm Chow, only to respond with “I have the owner’s number in my cell phone” when called out. After a 2008 home game in which he was booed, Young left his Nashville home without his cell phone . . . but with a gun. Fisher contacted Nashville police, who – after a four-hour search – eventually coerced Young to meet with them and team officials at Titans headquarters.
Though earning almost $35 million in NFL contracts and signing $30 million worth of endorsement deals with Reebok, Madden NFL and Campbell’s Soup, Young in 2014 filed for bankruptcy. While listing his assets at between $500,000-$1 million, he blamed his demise on a corrupt management team and some admittedly lavish spending – including a $15,000 dinner at The Cheesecake Factory.
In recent years he has partnered with a steakhouse and a real-estate company in Austin, founded the Vince Young Foundation to help underprivileged children, and filed to trademark “Make Vince Great Again.”
Fisher claims Young sent him a letter of apology, but misspelled his last name on the envelope.
Dale Hansen condemned to remain plugged-in.
Joe T. Garcia ushered to an inside table.
Colonel Sanders fowling out.
Vince Young fired by Texas.
The shame of this saga is that Young is a larger-than-life athlete with a charming personality and a fascinating tale. He grew up in Houston abandoned by his father and raised by a mother that struggled to provide electricity and running water while batting drug and alcohol addiction.
On the football field – and in life – Young won by regularly not following his blocking. He’s one of sports’ most fantastic freelancers. But to succeed at his next level – to help children, to engage Longhorns donors and to sustain a life for his wife and son – Young has to be humbled. Embarrassed. He has to return his crown.
He must admit he is no longer invincible.
Kicked out of the house by his adoptive Texas family, here’s hoping the firing comes as a bruising, rock-bottom bump on the noggin’. Because we all know about the potential, possibly fatal next steps of a demise.
It’s fourth-and-life and the blitz is coming, Vince Young. Do your thing.
