I read the news today, oh, boy. The defensive free agents this year are making a goddamned killing.

I know what you’re thinking—“These contracts are just for show, the players could be cut at any time with no remuneration. Just look at Drew Bledsoe’s non-existent $100 million contract.” Ok maybe you wouldn’t use the word “remuneration,” but, I just want to say that the current trend proves otherwise.

Atlanta Falcons DE Patrick Kerney has signed with the Seattle Seahawks for $19.5 million in guaranteed money.

Joey Porter agreed to play for the Miami Dolphins for five years for $32 million with $20 million guaranteed.

And, good ol’ Nate Clements, the highest paid defensive player in league history, signed with the San Francisco 49ers for $80 million with $22 million guaranteed.

Is this insane to anyone but me? This may be big business, but let’s get real—it’s still just a #### game. Can anyone tell me what other professions could actually be worth getting $20 million? How about cancer researchers? Bridge builders? NASA scientists? How about neuron-surgeons? Hell, Jonas Salk found a cure for polio and he probably couldn’t have gotten aboard the Minnesota Vikings' Love Boat.

All I’m saying is let’s put this in perspective. Don Maynard, the Super Bowl III wide receiver who helped the New York Jets win the title in 1969, played for $7600 in his rookie year with the New York Giants. He, along with many other players at that time, had to work second jobs in the off season to make a decent wage. Maynard, a college graduate, made $8600 being a plumber when he wasn’t wearing his number 13 jersey. Imagine that? A plumber making more than a wide receiver. Ahh, those were the days.

Chris Deilman left $10 million on the table to re-sign with the San Diego Chargers. A lot of people are touting this guys ethics. “Kudos for staying with the team and not going for the money!” they shout. Hello? He is still making $39 million—and he isn’t even the quarterback.

All this talk of people making millions playing a kid’s game is making me a little ill. There are regular, every-day people out there with regular, everyday problems. I know, I’m one of them. I have to go now because I’m taking out a second mortgage to get the Roto-Rooter guy to come fix my leaking toilet. I hope it’s Don Maynard—maybe I could get an autograph.