National Football League

Day of the diva WR has passed

Published Aug. 3, 2011 1:00 a.m. ET

foxsports

Over lunch the other day, a friend of mine received a text from one of Bill Belichick’s newest grunts.

“I think he’ll have a Pro Bowl season,” I announced, my analysis made optimistic with the wine. “Tell him.”

Chad Ochocinco’s response, which I now paraphrase, went something like this: Don’t need another Pro Bowl. Need a Super Bowl.

I believe him, absolutely. As long as he hears the cheers, he’ll be a model citizen in New England. (After all, Ocho’s only severe pathology was wanting to be loved). Just the same, I couldn’t help but note, a little wistfully, perhaps, the end of an era. It began with the publication of Keyshawn Johnson’s “Just Give Me the Damn Ball” in 1997 — the first volume of his autobiography being a celebration of a 1-15 rookie season — and concluded with the announcement (also on Monday afternoon) that Randy Moss was retiring for lack of interest. Here’s to you, the Diva Receivas.

Apologies for typecasting those charged with the glorious, if merciless, task of catching passes for a living. As Hall of Famer James Lofton was quick to remind me: “Ninety-five percent of guys playing receiver put the team before themselves.”

Still, it was the voluble minority who dominated the debate — and cheated the sport even as they enlivened the conversation. “The integrity of the game is the most important thing of all,” says veteran NFL receivers coach Jerry Sullivan. “A lot of those guys went out of their way to beat it up.”

Tweeting when they should’ve been lifting.

Filming when they should’ve been practicing.

Dictating as-told-to’s when they should’ve been winning.

Complaining. Complaining. And complaining. Hey, they’re divas.

They were, anyway. Perhaps, as Sullivan argues, “It’s a changing of the guard.” Or, maybe, there’s been a mass humbling.

Plaxico Burress has emerged from his jail stint apparently chastened and reformed. Ocho, whose services were obtained for a fifth-round pick, just wants a chance to win. Terrell Owens is unemployed and recovering from surgery. Brandon Marshall has attributed some of his problems — both legal and athletic — to a personality disorder. Allegations of diva-ism have also cost the most celebrated college receivers — Dez Bryant and Michael Crabtree — draft status and money.

Then there’s Moss. I understand the urge to celebrate someone when he’s gone. Still, to compare Moss with Michael Jordan (as Vikings coach Leslie Frazier did) seems to skirt that hypothetical border between the absurd and the offensive. Moss didn’t just not win a championship. Given his singular gifts, he underperformed. Worse still, he underworked. If you recall his performance in the 2000 NFC Championship Game against the Giants (two catches, 18 yards), you’ll recall that he took off some big games. Then again, what’s the big deal? If you’re a Raiders fan, you remember him taking off entire seasons.

“We’d get some film on him,” notes Sullivan, recently retired from the 49ers, “and he would just stand there when he was unhappy.”

At 34, Moss might not have quite grasped the reality. But he and his ilk have already been replaced by a new generation of top-tier receivers. Andre Johnson, Greg Jennings and Larry Fitzgerald don’t have much talent for controversy. In fact, there’s not a reality show among them. Not one, at least to my knowledge, has even slept with a Kardashian. Then again, history won’t regard them as Kardashians, either.

They are reputed for their stats and practice habits — not their tweets and bleats. It’s worth noting here that Sullivan, who devoted most of his working life to tutoring NFL receivers, spent the offseason with the man now regarded as the very best. While Terrell Owens became the first man suspected of rupturing an ACL while filming a reality show, Larry Fitzgerald was training with Sullivan. They began in mid-April and kept slogging until the lockout had run its course.

I don’t know if that entitles Fitzgerald to a comparison with Michael Jordan. But they have at least one thing in common. “He works his ass off,” says Sullivan.

So here’s hoping that Ochocinco has fully grasped the new reality. It’s not a show.

Pro Bowl? OK, that might’ve been the extra glass talking. Still, I’d like to see it. It would be interesting, even, in a peculiar way, redemptive. Certainly better than Ocho’s current role in “Basketball Wives.”

Then again, basketball wives or football divas? Is there really a difference? They’ll both seem better in reruns.