Mike Inrem's column today.


By now the 1972 Miami Dolphins should be back from celebrating Super Sunday on Fat Tuesday.

Bless the fellas for the truthiness that makes them unlike so many sports phonies, fakes and frauds.

Too often we prefer pretending human nature is what we want it to be rather than what it is. The fantasy is that people should graciously share their places in history.

So outrage confronts the '72 Dolphins for screaming that they want to remain the NFL's only undefeated champions ever.

Mercury Morris, a running back for that team and apparently its designated spokesman, went on TV to all but dance on New England's unfulfilled dream of perfection.

How can the Merc be so insensitive? How can those Dolphins not believe records are meant to be broken? How can they be happy the Giants prevented the Patriots from finishing 19-0?

Easily and candidly, that's how.

The '72 Dolphins are being honest with themselves, and to heck with the rest of us.

Transparency is rare in these deceitful times. Telling it like it is, or even as it's perceived, is replaced by telling people what they want to hear.

That way, no endorsement opportunities are jeopardized.

(Full disclosure: In print Sunday, I predicted the Giants would upset the Patriots. My only regret is being forced to share genius status with colleagues Mike Spellman and Lindsey Willhite. If I could go back and edit their picks out of the paper, I would.)

Anyway, no endorsements are at stake here, but I proclaim that when my record for Pulitzer Prizes is challenged after 35 years, I don't want it broken by some snot-nosed kid who has an uncanny way with the alphabet.

There, I said it and I'm happy.

A good guess is if a truck driver is in the Guinness Book of World Records for most miles hauling widgets, he wants to stay there at least until Peterbilts can fly.

Jack Nicklaus likely calculates the average life span of men in his family against Tiger Woods' current number of major championships and thinks, "Good, there's a chance I'll be dead when he surpasses my record."

In 1961, Babe Ruth probably tried to reach down and take the bat out of Roger Maris' hands. Do you really think Hank Aaron was indifferent over Barry Bonds beating his home run mark?

Of course, Aaron had extra incentive to remain baseball's career homer champ, considering Bonds is both insufferable and a cheater.

Have you noticed anybody comparable in the news lately? Perhaps a certain NFL coach of a certain New England team?

If I'm the '72 Dolphins and another team is destined to go undefeated, I would want it to be coached by somebody like Billy Graham instead of Bully Belichick.

You know, somebody who didn't videotape opponents' signals, leave with his troops on the field with time still on the game clock, and confuse a smirk for a smile.

As the '72 Dolphins felt about the Giants' victory, I wasn't disappointed Belichick went down in flames instead of history.

So you can continue kidding everybody into believing you would graciously yield your life's most significant accomplishment to others.

I'll continue appreciating Mercury Morris, Don Shula and the rest of the '72 Dolphins for keeping it real.

Pass what's left of the champagne, fellas, it's time to toast you again.