So I have this friend. His name is not relevant, but for the sake of this article will call him Bryan Smivish. Smivish is a 36-year-old single man, happily ensconced in his world of bachelorhood. He dates women, he enjoys women, and I imagine he likely knows how to treat women right. If I had an attractive, single lady friend, for instance, I would certainly recommend she give Smivish a try. He’s a good guy, deserving of a well-to-do, diminutive female companion. Ladies, if you’re interested in Smivish, please let me know, I’ll arrange the meeting.
All that said, Smivish likes to tell me about what he calls the “Crazy-Hot Scale.” The Crazy-Hot Scale is a gauge by which a woman’s intrinsic craziness is measured against her extrinsic hotness. If a woman was incredibly hot and not all that crazy, she would be a pretty good catch, according to Smivish’s Crazy-Hot Scale. By contrast, if a woman happened to be…homely…while simultaneously…looney, she would be undateable, per the scale. Most women, as it turns out, happen to fall somewhere in the middle.
As far as Smivish is concerned, all women are somewhat crazy. Keep in mind that Smivish is reaching the sunset of what we’ll call his athletic prime, and has somehow, some way managed to avoid wedded bliss (although many would contest that “bliss” isn’t the right word) for almost four decades now. He’s a little biased, to be sure. But he’s also wise. Like Yoda. So I consider his Crazy-Hot Scale to be a worthy measurement of social endeavors, romantic or otherwise.
When it comes to those social endeavors that fall under the “otherwise” category, I often like to apply the Crazy-Hot Scale to measure the cost-benefit analysis of one’s perceived worth. So naturally, when the Seahawks signed free agent quarterback Matt Flynn on Sunday, I took the Crazy-Hot Scale and made it work for the team’s latest addition.
Flynn, as you probably know, was arguably the hottest commodity on the open market this offseason. A record-breaking spot start performance in the final week of the 2011 regular season sealed his fate as a future starter, which in turn endeared Flynn to a number of suitors in recent days. The fact that Seattle managed to land the league’s current flavor of the week is nearly as shocking as the numbers Flynn tallied in place of his Green Bay counterpart, Aaron Rodgers.
In fleeting moments gone by, Flynn, a seventh-round draft pick by the Packers in 2008, provided solid relief for the inimitable Rodgers. The LSU product’s two career starts have yielded the following statistics: 951 passing yards, nine touchdowns, four interceptions, a 63-percent completion rate, and yes, even one rushing score. To deny Flynn’s elite status at the top of the “hot” spectrum would be ignorant. With just a limited sample size, the 26-year-old has established himself as total babe material. He’s Cady Heron from Mean Girls, a new kid with seemingly limitless popularity. People either want to be him or be with him. He wears pink on Wednesdays. He could write the effing Burn Book! His best friend is Regina George!! Don’t you understand?!
But how crazy is he? That’s a damn good question. In the spirit of the Crazy-Hot Scale, craziness assumes risk. No matter how hot the girl may be, if she’s crazy, the risk can start to outweigh the aesthetic benefits she may otherwise provide.
With Flynn, there is indisputable risk. Must we reiterate that the man has only made two career starts? Frankly, that’s not much upon which to base the hopes and dreams of an entire franchise.
Not only that, but Flynn comes from a machine of an offense, one that allowed him eons of pocket protection, a bevy of talented receivers, and a winning pedigree that culminated in a 2010 Super Bowl victory. How will he adjust to a different playbook on a less-heralded ballclub? This is a question that won’t easily be answered until September, at the very earliest.
What we don’t know about Flynn can be mitigated by what we do know about his contract. The Seahawks aren’t paying their franchise signal-caller a ridiculous amount. That’s good news for fans, and better news for the organization.
While Flynn’s deal calls for the quarterback to be issued $26 million over three years, only $10 million is guaranteed money. Compare that to the deal Kevin Kolb signed with Arizona last year — five years, $63.5 million, $21 million guaranteed — and even your casual football fanatic can stand up and applaud the work put in by the Seahawks’ front office.
Better yet, as a Seattle sports fan, take a look at what the Mariners once bestowed upon Chone Figgins — four years, $36 million, everything guaranteed — and you have to be positively giddy over what was accomplished this past weekend. I mean, which would you rather have? A potential franchise quarterback or a middling, malcontent utility player with a shoddy bat?
Yeah, there’s a little crazy there. But in the grand scheme of things, Matt Flynn is downright hot. On the Crazy-Hot Scale, it’s evident that we have a bona fide bone-able winner. Yep, you might be a smidge nutso, Flynn, but you got that Lindsay Lohan teen dream redux working quite nicely for you these days. If nothing else, we should all be behind this possible match-made-in-heaven.
P.S. On a side note, can we do away with all the Flynn puns already? My goodness, the online world went certifiably Flynnsane over the arrival of Matt Flynn. People who aren’t usually all that funny love themselves an opportunity to get creative from time to time. So what transpires? Flynnsanity, of course!
Listen here, we’ve already been down this road once with Jeremy Lin. Just because “Flynn” isn’t “Lin” doesn’t mean these puns are original. Hearing about Flynntimacy, Flynnsomniacs, the Flynncredible, and other words of Flynnspiration is downright Flynntolerable. This is like a Drake cut, where if it almost rhymes, where if the word almost fits, then we’ll just go ahead and plug it in there and hope it works.
No, no, no, no, no. There is a list a mile long of Flynn puns (nee Lin puns) that should never again be touched. No Flynnternational Love, no Flynncest, and God forbid when he throws his first pick, no Flynnterceptions. We are better than this, people! And we all know this wouldn’t be a problem if the dude just had a different surname. Why couldn’t we be blessed with a Matt Mutombo, or even a Matt Szczerbiak? Try punning the crap out of those names. Impossible!
Or Flynnpossible, as someone will undoubtedly take a half-assed, butchered stab at one day. Flynnsolent jerks…