Some things you just cannot explain; they just are. Such as why peanut butter goes so well with, really, anything, or why Lindsay Lohan is still somehow in movies (and for that matter, still alive). You can’t find a reason for it, no matter how hard you try, so you might as well accept it. With that in mind, just accept the fact that you do not like Jimmy Clausen. Don’t try to make excuses for his idiocy by reveling in his “cannon-like” arm or balance his awful personality with undue comparisons to the near-perfect quarterback Drew Brees.
But the fact of the matter is, the guy is good. We know that. Being able to play as well as he did for almost an entire season with a nasty toe injury is no cakewalk. But at the end of the day, it would have been a heck of a lot easier if he had some friends to share that cake with. And Jim-Jim didn’t have any of those, not really at high school, where the star quarterback reigned supreme, or even at Notre Dame, where unbeknownst to the Catholics, football is truly a religion.
While at Notre Dame, Jimmy learned very little because that is what he chose to do. Instead of growing as a person and trying new things, he stuck by his tried-and-true method of sweeping up cronies. That is, he used what God gave him athletically to secure any and all relationships. It is that singular reliance on pure talent that ended up screwing him over both socially and professionally as he got bumped all the way down to Mr. Almost Irrelevant.
Mr. Clausen is not a likable guy. I wish I could post some of the pictures that surface when you Google his name. If the completely gelled, spiked and platinum blonde hairdo isn’t enough to seriously question his judgment, then you are a lot less judgmental than I am. Well done. But really, getting down to the facts, hiring a stretch Hummer limousine (again, this car choice alone docks him about a billion points) to take him to the College Football Hall of Fame — the place he chose to announce his mere commitment to Notre Dame — is a just a tad bit much.
Not only did he have the audacity to roll up with his 15 person entourage — no, not family members, but a hand-picked entourage — but he was also wearing the four championship rings that he earned while at Oaks Christian Quarterbacking Academy, stating that he was bringing the hardware to the Fighting Irish come Fall. Um… I won’t even touch on that. I believe we’re all on the same page here. Not only did he fail to deliver on that promise, but he also failed to deliver on something else.
When you start college, you’re probably going to be a little immature. That is precisely what college is for. It’s a time to grow out of the moronic cocoon you’re in upon entry and become a wise butterfly. It comes with the territory. Not only did people expect him to be a great player, but also a great leader, motivator and probably all-around good guy. Sure, he looked like an idiot on that warm April Day in South Bend, but he should mature, right?
Wouldn’t he become a role model both on and off the field for the little tikes in the Pee-Wee leagues? Wrong. Instead, he got beaned in the face while out to dinner with his girlfriend! And by probably less physically gifted students! From his own school!
Teammates from the past have come out and spoken against his ability to reach out to anyone, citing an arrogance and overall sense of superiority as a real barrier to liking the guy. And believe me, I’m in no way asking Jimmy to be a role model. I get the argument that athletes in the public eye never ask to be one. However, athletes do have a responsibility to at least provide some moral compass, and to live your life to the best of your abilities, if not for others, than for yourself. Glossy Claussy has done no such thing. He sucks up one side, and down the other.
I hope that he learned a lesson on the (squash laughter here) second day of the draft that talent does not get you everything. He’s learned in the past, obviously, that talent does not get you true friends, true fans, loyal teammates and now, interested NFL executives and coaches. Hopefully Sir Clausen is beginning to see the worth in this lesson: You just can’t be a really terrible person and get away with it all your life. Somewhere down the road, you’ll be judged on character and that’s exactly what played out on Jimmy’s D-Day and subsequent fall into the Second Round. Maybe he’ll catch on, maybe he won’t… I guess we’ll see in the coming years. My bet is that he has a black eye by day two of the rookie mini-camp. Just saying.