To tell you just how tough Deion "Prime Time" Sanders is, he blocked me on Twitter.
Prime can dish it, but he can't take it. From anybody. Prime needs prime love 24-7 because, in the end, Prime is but a child. A little, little child.
He has confused wealth for maturity and enabling for being correct.
These realities don't offset but dampen the fact that Sanders has actually tried to mentor a lot of young NFL players. He was quite helpful to so many teammates through the years about how to properly handle money.
But he couldn't take a hit in the game, and he can't take one on the airwaves.
This is a guy who dumped ice water on former MLB broadcaster Tim McCarver because he didn't like what McCarver said about him playing for both the Atlanta Braves and the Atlanta Falcons. This infamous ice bucket challenge occurred in the 1992 National League playoffs as the Braves celebrated a pennant-clinching victory.
Sanders' reaction was petulant and immature, and maybe you could chalk it up to Sanders' youth. Nope. That's just Prime being Prime.
Example No. 43,524 of this is Prime's shots at CBS' top color analyst Tony Romo's playful, and accurate, assessment of Chiefs' cornerback Marcus Peters' rotten run defense during the Chiefs' game against the Dallas Cowboys.
Romo, in his first season as CBS' top analyst, said Peters "makes Deion Sanders look good at tackling sometimes."
Not possible. Deion was never good at tackling, and he has repeatedly mentioned he didn't want to be good at the ancient art.
Romo's comment is a benign, playful jab that no less than 49 million people made during and after Sanders' 14-year career that ended in 2005.
On Sunday evening on the NFL Network, Deion pulled out his ice bucket and buried Romo.
"Tony, I tried my best to take the high road but I don't know the address to the high road. So I got to come at you, man," Sanders told the NFL Network. "Ten years as a starter, you're 2-4 in the playoffs. You ain't won nothing. I tried to bury the hatchet. Both of us work for CBS, I went and shook your hand, said, 'Tony, you're doing a great job this year.' I thought that would be it. But nevertheless you keep on showing at me.
"Tony, what's going on, man? I got a gold jacket that I didn't buy. Dak [Prescott] says hi. And bye. Tony, leave me alone, man. I got a lot of ammunition, man. How many interceptions? Nineteen in 2012? Come on, man. You threw to everybody but me! You know you never won the big one, so stop. Leave me alone."
Give a person enough time and he will show who he is. This is Fraudulus Prime -- a guy who can dish it, and just can't take it.
The irony here is it was Fraudulus Prime who went all in, at the behest of good buddy Terrell Owens, to evict Drew Bledsoe as the starting quarterback of the Dallas Cowboys in 2006 in favor of the unknown Romo. Fraudulus had no idea whether Romo was any good back in 2006, but he was buddies with T.O. so he chirped on his behalf.
People of the current generation are routinely killed for not being able to handle criticism, but Prime is 50 and he's behaving like the spoiled kid who gets hurt when the coach is mad at him. In this case, 50 bears no reflection on a person's evolution.
The right thing to do for Deion is to laugh Romo's comments off and move on. Deion Sanders is in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. He has that gold jacket. He won a Super Bowl. He's a good football analyst. He just didn't like to tackle. Who cares?
As an analyst, Prime is a part of the show. He's in the arena. And his role is to offer insight and criticism. The same goes for Romo.
Romo wasn't great at taking it either, trust me, but he knew the line.
Fraudulus Prime doesn't, because no one taught him. Because he has confused money for maturity. Because, in the end, Deion Sanders is but a child. A little, little child.
Sports on 11/07/2017