Like so many before him, it looks like Rashard Mendenhall has found his time spent in Arizona reinvigorating and restorative. Mendenhall penned an op-ed today in the Huffington Post about his experiences since moving into a small, minimalist apartment in the state of his new team, the Arizona Cardinals.
I suspect, by his musings of inner-peace, our former RB1 has spent some time at the vortexes of Sedona, or perhaps trapped in a Winnebego without gas in the middle of the desert of neighboring New Mexico with his old high school chemistry teacher. Either way, all is right in Rashard Mendenhall’s world.
I can’t say I blame him. I’ve spent time in Arizona myself, and have found it to be a place with amazing beauty and friendly locals. If you haven’t spent a winter day looking out on a desert of red rock covered in snow, you are missing something. But I digress.
Mendenhall speaks of decorating his "new abode" with rented furniture, and abstaining from creature comforts such as flat-screen TV’s, high-speed internet, or pictures/snacks. Mendenhall speaks of the inner-peace his barren walls have brought him, and how his new life feels free with a side of "peaceful delight," which he notes has eluded him for years. Throw in a quote from "Lebanese author and poet, Khalil Gibran," and you’d almost forget Rashard Mendenhall was an athlete at all, and perhaps instead a Rhodes Scholar who left football to become a neurosurgeon.
Sadly for Mendenhall, he had to escape the oppressive confines of Pittsburgh to find this inner-peace. He needed to let go of the feeling of "holding on to something that you no longer need to hold on to," which I suspect might be a euphemism for a football in the Super Bowl, but what do I know, I do not quote Khalil Gibran.
Rashard Mendenhall was always a different sort of football player, and in the past has brought out some strong arguments for and against some of his personal positions on this blog, but for all the snark, I hope he finds freedom in Arizona. I know he appreciates this second chance for a metaphoric large gap opening up the middle of this rush we call life, and I know we can all count on him to promptly bounce outside the open lane, spin, and be tackled for a two-yard loss.