When the news came out last week that the New York Jets might explore a trade for Darrelle Revis, it was easy to dismiss the idea as typical new-regime fodder. Whenever a new coach or GM steps in, there’s an obligation to let everyone know that “all parts of our football team” are being evaluated. It’s a reminder to both the media and fans that there’s a reason someone was just fired, and that they shouldn’t worry — change is coming. But that change doesn’t usually include trading one of the 10 best players in football.
Over the weekend, the idea of Revis leaving town went from exploratory to seemingly imminent. Because Revis has a clause in his contract prohibiting New York from using the franchise tag on him when his deal is up at the end of this season, the hope is that the Jets can get something for their star cornerback rather than watching him walk away. For a team living life near the top of the cap and void of young talent on both sides of the ball, it’s a notion that might seem crazy but is actually worth exploring. One question that comes with this possibility isn’t whether Revis should be traded, but if he is, where he would fall among the best players ever dealt.
Have you ever seen a more desperate run than Adrian Peterson’s last run of the 2012 football season? Not just in the NFL, but anywhere — like to the bus stop or across the lawn or down the stretch at the track? With 24 seconds left on the clock, on Green Bay’s 37-yard line in a tie game, AD needed 35 yards to break Eric Dickerson’s record. He grabs the handoff and follows his fullback. He diverges from his lead as soon as said fullback pops a linebacker and instantly drives 12 yards downfield. At the 26-yard line he weaves 30 degrees inside for five yards, and then it all gets a little Butch Cassidy and the Stanford Marching Band. He looks like he’s being chased by the entire Green Bay 53-man roster. He bends his shoulders back toward the sideline right before two Packers jump on his back at the 17 and he carries the two of them in a sort of crescent-shaped path to the 11 before he falls over and the Vikings call timeout.
There is chaos. Everybody in the Metrodome — whether wearing purple or green and gold — seems bewildered. Did he get it? Wait, he didn’t get it? He has to wait along with everybody else for a 5-foot-2 person to kick a chip-shot field goal. Afterwards, he is hoisted on somebody’s shoulders.