FanPost

An Ode to Number Ninety Four

There's something that I think alot of us here are experiencing vis-á-vis our all-pro, all-world, all-everything Defensive End right now: heartbreak, and sadness on his behalf. So I figured I'd write a little bit about it.

Going into today's game at Seattle, there was only so much disappointment that the game's outcome could bring. A win would have been nice, sure, but our season was finished before the opening kickoff. So I think we're all a little surprised by the sour note this season ended on: Quinn was supposed to take the 1st annual Deacon...

You see, I'm 23 years old, and I vividly remember the glory days of the GSOT. It was the first football I ever watched, and why the St. Louis Rams are my team. Something all the Pats fans and Giants/Jets fans around me in New England simply can't comprehend. Why stick with a team who's games you can't attend when they just aren't really that good (**Their words, not mine)? But while images of Marshall taking one to the house and Torry catching the deep bomb from Warner will forever be indelible marks upon my football memories, I'm simply too young to remember the days of the Fearsome Foursome, and some of the early Ram legends. Old timers here talk fondly about their playing days as if telling stories about a golden era somewhere in Rams antiquity, but it was just hard to live vicariously through these tales.

That's why Quinn's season was so significant to me, personally. It felt like a link to the past. With each sack-fumble, hit, hurry, and elaborate dance, I finally knew what it was like to have an absolutely dominant defensive end in the blue and gold. And goddamn it, it was awesome. Quinn's play this season can be described in terms I would like applied to the Rams as a whole: devastating. ferocious. tough. fast. relentless. elite. unstoppable. versatile. driven. Robert Quinn embodies what the successful Rams will need to play like in order to consistently win.

I know I'm not alone in feeling like it was simply fate that Black Lightning should bring the inaugural Deacon Jones Award home to St. Louis. After the game against Tampa, I was downright sure of it. Even though our opponents typically played with a lead, even though he was criminally held by every left tackle he encountered, it seemed like Quinn was just destined to win. So now I have a pit in my stomach, and I'm trying to find a way to be okay with this, by focusing on the positives I know to be true amid the crushing disappointment. Robert Quinn is elite. He is young. And next year he is going to come out more determined than ever to win not just the Deacon, but also the DPOY.

It was a hell of a season, Gumby. Tonight, I'll be drinking to you.

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