Monday, March 5, 2007
The Fictional Pacman Jones Interview
JB: So, Pacman, how are you?
Jones: Not guilty.
JB: No, not "how do you plead?" How are you?
Jones: I'm okay. On a scale of 1 to 10, I'd say I'm in the 3-to-5 range.
JB: Kind of like a sentence for assault and battery?
Jones: Maybe for someone who can't afford a good lawyer.
JB: Fantastic. So, how did you get the nickname "Pacman?"
Jones: Well, when I was a kid, my friends would give me a quarter and dare me to go into the grocery store and steal doughnuts and fruit. And one time, me and my friend Hand Truck stole a Pac-Man video game from the corner arcade. I guess between those two instances I got the nickname.
JB: Now, at what age did you realize your athletic ability was something special?
Jones: I'd say at about age five.
JB: What happened then? Was that your first time in little league?
Jones: No, the first time I outran the police.
JB: So your troubles with the law started at an early age?
Jones: You could say that. My mom's ultrasound was administered by the police. I crawled into my first police lineup. I was delinquent before I was juvenile.
JB: Did athletics give you an escape from your troubles?
Jones: Sports were the best thing that ever happened to me. Then I found out you could get paid to play. Right then, I made it my goal to become a pro athlete. So, I was probably the first pee wee athlete to have an agent.
JB: Speaking of going pro, you skipped you senior year at West Virginia to enter the NFL draft. Do you feel you were ready to make such a decision?
Jones: Absolutely. I was more than ready. I had already skipped my freshman, sophomore, and junior years, so skipping my senior year was an easy choice.
JB: Actually, I meant were you ready for the NFL?
Jones: Oh yeah. I was ready for a higher level of competition, and I needed a raise.
JB: Speaking of money, do you make it a habit to carry $81,000 in cash?
Jones: Hey, you never know when you'll need a retainer fee, or a Rolls-Royce, or a two bedroom, one bath bungalow, or 8,100 lap dances. The Boy Scouts motto is "Be prepared."
JB: You were a Boy Scout?
Jones: Umm, I'm legally bound not to answer that question.
JB: Why? What happened?
Jones: Again, I can't speak in detail. Let's just say you don't get a merit badge for pistol-whipping.
JB: What happened in that strip club in Vegas?
Jones: Which one?
JB: The last one.
Jones: I was there, just having a good time, chatting up with some premium tail, working my pimp stride, and drinking with several members of my posse I'd just posted bail for. The next thing I know, somebody's accusing me of slapping a stripper and bullets are flying.
JB: So you didn't slap a stripper?
Jones: I didn't say that.
JB: So you did slap a stripper?
Jones: Off the record?
JB: Okay.
Jones: Yeah, I guess I slapped her.
JB: So you were on that stripper like Ron Artest on a Pistons' fan?
Jones: Huh? Look, it's one thing to slap a stripper, but to go into the stands and attack a fan? That's insane. You can slap a stripper and not get fined by the NFL.
JB: Why did you slap her? It was a "her," right?
Jones: Yeah, she was a she. Anyway, she said I had a tendency to bite on double moves, and I was a slightly below-average tackler. So, I slapped her in the face.
JB: Wow. You and I have totally different criteria for giving a stripper a "facial."
Jones: What?
JB: Never mind. What does your coach, Jeff Fisher, have to say about all of your legal transgressions?
Jones: Well, it's just like when I make a good play in a game; he compliments me on my defense.
JB: You recently admitted to smoking marijuana. That had to come as a surprise to absolutely no one.
Jones: Hey, I admitted to smoking it, not inhaling it. You know, like George Clinton.
JB: You mean Bill Clinton?
Jones: Whatever. Pot is as widespread in the NFL as, say, tackling.
JB: Is there anything the NFL could do to make it less likely that you'll continue to have trouble with the law? Like, for example, counseling?
Jones: Obviously, I have way too much time on my hands. Maybe the NFL could go to a 52-game schedule. An even simpler solution would be to legalize crime.
JB: What do you have to say to all of your relatives who have expressed concern for your safety due to your reckless lifestyle?
Jones: I would tell them that I appreciate their concern, and their checks are in the mail.
JB: If you weren't a cornerback for the Titans, what would you be doing?
Jones: Well, I'd either be a defensive lineman for the Bears, a backup wide receiver for the Bengals, or a small forward for the Warriors, formerly of the Pacers. Or a rapper. Or maybe an elementary school teacher.
JB: Does it concern you that you're the only football player to be featured in both the Madden NFL and Grand Theft Auto video games?
Jones: If by "concerned" you mean "honored, flattered, and getting paid," then yes, I'm concerned. It's called "crossover appeal," baby.
JB: If you're released by the Titans, where would you like to play?
Jones: I guess everyone's saying I'd be a perfect fit in Cincinnati, with all the Bengals who have had trouble with the law. But I think I'm way too hardcore for those amateurs. DWIs and possession? Nothing but small-time crime.
JB: If you lined up against Bengals wide receiver Chris Henry, what would happen?
Jones: I don't know. I'd probably jam him at the line, frisk him, knock him off his route. I'm guessing the crime rate would rise a few percentage points, too.
JB: You played with Henry at West Virginia. What was that like?
Jones: What was it like? Let's see. We had some great battles in practice, and they even named a section of the law school building after us.
JB: What are some of your favorite movies?
Jones: Ah, I loved North Dallas Forty to Life. Menace XXXII Society is a classic. Pacman and Robbin'.
JB: Favorite television shows?
Jones: Deal or No Deal. Arrested Development. Pimp My Cell.
JB: Favorite magazine?
Jones: Anything that holds at least 15 rounds.
JB: Favorite 1980s hair metal band?
Jones: Warrant.
JB: What do you call a page of Jay-Z's lyrics?
Jones: A rap sheet.
JB: What's it called when you wave farewell to someone while your car is moving?
Jones: A drive-bye.
JB: What do you call an incomplete succession of words?
Jones: A suspended sentence.
JB: If you beg for a really cheap price on a sale item, what do you call it?
Jones: A plea bargain.
JB: What does a gangster rooster say in the morning?
Jones: Glock-a-doodle-doo.
JB: What's it called when your locked in a dark room and forced to play a one-player card game?
Jones: Solitaire confinement.
JB: Okay, enough of the tomfoolery, Pacman. Let's be serious. What's your ultimate goal in life, and do you think you can reach it?
Jones: Absolutely, I can reach it. You know, people will say that my troubles with the law will keep me from reaching that ultimate goal. Well, they're wrong. I think it's done nothing but help. In fact, I think I've already reached my ultimate goal, which is to reach a level of notoriety that allows me to be released on my own recognizance any time I'm arrested. As in life and in crime, Pacman Jones aims high.
JB: Super. On that note, Pacman, I'd like to thank you for your time. Good luck, and I hope your future is full of stripper poles and reluctant witnesses.