This just in:
Eric Dickerson's final will and testament is discovered.
Authorities confirm authenticity.
Dickerson says he will draft new document immediately.
But while we have a copy handy . . .
I, Eric Dimitric Dickerson, being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath the following items:
To John Robinson, my former head coach:
--Some advice: Get out! Quick! Come to Indianapolis! My cousin lives there, and he can show you around. Won't take but a few minutes. And they paid well, too. Oops, forgot. You got paid more than me, didn't you?
Anyway, you'll enjoy Indy (that's what we locals called it). There's a surprising number of fine restaurants, a budding theater district, a thriving amateur athletics community. There's also winter, which is why I didn't stick around during the off-season to visit any of those budding theaters. But I called some teammates (collect) who live there and they said you'll like it.
And what has it been, two years for Coach Ron Meyer with the Colts? That's some sort of record for him, isn't it? Here's my prediction: a pink slip from the Irsays or a call from SMU alums when they get off the NCAA's Death Row.
To Georgia Frontiere, my former team owner:
--A Jaws-of-Life machine, the better to pry open that purse of yours. I would have stayed and played if you just would have paid.
--Your very own stadium suite, so you'll stay away from the sidelines.
--A stack of pink slips. You'll need them after this season.
To those three first-round and three second-round draft choices the Rams got for trading me to the Colts:
--Lots of luck. I gained about a jillion yards for those people and never got the raise I deserved. So don't be surprised if the Rams offer you coupons or trading stamps or box tops as a signing bonus. I know, because I traded mine in for a toaster oven.
To LeRoy Irvin, my former protege:
--Some leverage. LeRoy, my man, you messed up. I liked your plan (grumble about contract extension during exhibition season, pout, get struck with mysterious injury, perform poorly, practice occasionally, demand trade, call in sick), but your timing stunk. In the future, I would suggest that you not ask for a raise when the team's superstar is doing the same. It tends to upset management. You know how they can be. Anyway, just a little negotiating tip to live by.
To John Shaw, my former team vice president-finance:
--A salute. Me and the fellas never had a chance against you. Just remember this: I made more money than you. Of course, I had to work in Indianapolis to do it.
To Charles Chin, my former agent:
--A banner that reads: "Thanks to me, Eric is now the highest-paid running back in the National Football League. Not bad for a former office worker."
To Jack Rodri, my former, former agent:
--Less than zero.
To tight end David Hill, my former Ram teammate:
--A good real estate agent. Now that I'm gone, I don't think the Rams will have much need for a blocking tight end. You know, I have a cousin who lives in Indianapolis. . . .
To running back Albert Bentley, my former Colt teammate:
--Your job back.
To Bob Irsay, my former Colt owner:
--Many thanks. I don't care what anyone says, you're the best check-signer I ever knew. Too bad you don't know anything about football.
To guard Dennis Harrah, my former Ram teammate:
--A get-well card. I hope your back feels better. Although I've never personally been injured (except for that, ha-ha, hamstring ailment right before I was traded), I understand that it's painful. Best wishes, and could you pass it around to the other guys on the offensive line?
To Ram running backs Charles White and Greg Bell:
--47 Gap. Do it proud.
To Ram fans:
--My condolences. You're going to miss me. I may have been selfish, immature, flippant, occasionally arrogant and almost always naive, but I was worth the price of admission. Now what do you get for your money? A 1-7 record, and falling. An offense that ranks 23rd in the league in total yardage and 26th in scoring. And how about that defense? It's ranked 27th against the pass and 25th in points allowed and overall yardage.
To my Colt and Ram teammates:
--My time-tested restaurant waiter chart. Simply take 2% of the bill and, presto, the tip.
To quarterback Jim Everett, my former Ram teammate:
--The football back.
To Ernie Zampese, my former Ram offensive coordinator:
--More advice. Listen, you need another wide receiver to go with Henry Ellard. Why not give Michael Young a chance? Not as fast as Mr. World Class Sprinter, but he can catch.
To Ram team trainers:
--A patent. You guys are the greatest. Just when I thought my hamstrings were going to snap like violin strings, you people found a cure . . . just in time for my departure to Indianapolis.
To the NFC West:
--Nothing. I despise you. The New Orleans Saints are cheap-shot artists. The Atlanta Falcons never respected me. The San Francisco 49ers made fun of my goggles. So there.
And to Marcus Allen:
--My old Ram locker. Sooner or later, they're gonna get you.