Antonio Brown

USA Today

Mr. Big Chest

If there was ever a red flag for potential trade partners, it’s that.

February 19, 2019 - 9:33 am
Categories: 

Pretty damn sure I sat in this exact same spot in this exact same chair in this exact same studio on this exact same show yesterday and told Antonio Brown to put the phone down. Or at least slide it over to airplane mode. Because this dude is doing damage with a Wi-Fi signal like no one I’ve ever seen.

The same guy that went Facebook Live from his locker room after a playoff game two years ago is the same guy that went with an A.M.A. on Twitter over the weekend where he proceeded to roast his coach and his quarterback in the span of six questions. And if A.B. thought his act on social somehow helped his rap—it didn’t. It just made it worse. That’s why I told him to put the phone down and walk away. But he didn’t do that. Of course not. Instead—last night Antonio Brown hopped on an elliptical, took his shirt off, pointed his blower at his grill, went on Instagram Live and said this:

“If your squad wants to win and your squad wants a hungry wide receiver who’s the best in the world, someone hit my phone. Tell them I ain’t doing no unguarantees. I ain’t even gonna play myself no more for this NFL….If your team got guaranteed money, and they want to get to know me and work with me, tell them to call me.”

Since no one wants to tell A.B. how this whole thing works than I guess I will.

Bro. You have a contract. That you signed. That legally binds you to the Steelers. You’re not a free agent... So you can tell Steeler Nation goodbye all you want. And you can tell teams to call you. But you don’t have the hammer, or the power, or the leverage here no matter how badly you wish you did.  

And what happened to it’s not about the money? You said it yourself over the weekend quote, “Not for the money, it’s for the love of the sport. I made 70 million. It’s public record. Time to play for my own Team AB84 The Family!”

What happened to that?! It wasn’t about the money three days ago but it’s all about the money last night. It’s not about the money? Or it’s about the guaranteed money?  Dude—I can’t keep track of you because you can’t keep track of you. And this whole thing is past tired. It’s just lame and annoying now. Like—do we all have to follow you relentlessly on your social media handles to gauge your current moods? I don’t even want to put up with that as a talk show host. So who the hell is gonna wanna put up with that as your employer? Current or future?

But the whole thing went past tired, and lame, and annoying to downright comical and bizarre. I mentioned that AB was shirtless on the elliptical when he was asking teams with guaranteed money to call him. That’s important—because not only was AB trying to change squads last night—he was trying to change his name. Apparently he no longer goes by Antonio brown. Or AB. No. And towards the end of his near 9-minute rant—my man pointed the camera down at his bare chest and demanded that we all call him—Mr. Big Chest. 

“Call me Mr. Big Chest. Big Chest from now on. Big Chest Brown from now on. Don’t even call me AB. Just call me Big Chest. Yeah, I’m Mr. Big Chest.”

Poop Johnson and Lester the Molester Hayes think that’s a terrible self-gloss.

Mr. Big Chest? This dude serious?

Imagine that. Table for Mr. Big Chest. Mr. Best Chest—party of two—your table is ready.

Or—grande iced latte for Mr. Big Chest.

Or—Mr. Big Chest, the doctor will see you now.

Here’s what I’m not gonna do. I’m not gonna call Antonio Brown, Mr. Big Chest. Not now. Not ever.

Worst self-gloss ever.

If there was ever a red flag for potential trade partners, it’s that. 

Sure, the demands for guaranteed money are A CONCERN. And the fact that he’s airing dirty laundry in the open, and going on every platform known to mankind isn’t exactly the kind of thing that most teams would like, but if I’m a general manager in the NFL, the thing that would worry me the most about AB is that he wants to be called BC.

I mean, there’s the issue of self-gloss. And then there’s the issue of horrible self-gloss. Mr. Big Chest? The Bowling Ball in Tampa thinks that’s working way too hard on a nickname. The Axe can’t believe how lame a handle Mr. Big Chest is. 

From one of the greatest receivers ever to one of the worst self-glossers ever. Don't get me wrong. I've always loved AB. His appearances on this show are some of my favorite interviews ever. Business is boomin! The time he came on radio row and spent the entire interview staring at the camera - I loved that. Dude does have crazy IT. And crazy game. 

But my man is getting more and more bizarre by the minute. And this whole thing is making it very, very hard to remember that AB. The "What it is" AB. The Business is Boomin AB. The show up to camp in a chopper, show up at Radio Row in a Rolls AB. 

You found your new team already, AB, I mean, BC. And you don’t even know it. So let me introduce you to all your new teammates, including  Cloney Carter, Manny Cheeseburger, and The Crystal Methodist.

Good luck winning with that crew.

I’d tell this dude again to put his phone down and walk away from social media for a little bit but we both know that’s not gonna happen. 

In fact I'd be more surprised if he wasn't on the Gram later today calling himself Mr. Big Traps or Mr. Big Tri's or Mr. Big 'Ceps telling us he's gonna retire or something.

This saga is so weird and AB is so bizarre he’s’! Making OBJ look normal.