Dear Kirk Cousins,
You don’t know me. Odds are you never will.
But I owe you an apology.
For the first few years of your career, I was a detractor of yours. I thought your antics were cringey. Goober-esque. Bland and lame. Corn flakes with no milk.
I rolled my eyes during the “You Like That” event. How goobery, I thought. This guy has no self-awareness.
I have no idea why every time I thought of you the phrase “meh” came to mind. It could be because I didn’t do my homework on you. It could be because I thought you were rated too highly by Midwest sportswriters, playing in the Big Ten against inferior competition compared to the SEC. Or, it could be because deep down, I was afraid of being corny, cringey, or “meh” myself.
I did chuckle a little bit at the Kirko Chainz meme, and I admired you busting it down on the plane with the teammates. And I noticed they seemed to be laughing with you, not at you.
But the moment it changed for me? Watching the first season of Quarterback on Netflix.
My wife and I tuned in. And with each episode, I felt more and more convicted about how I felt and spoke about you. And I have changed my opinion completely. And I need to set the record straight.
So Kirk, I am genuinely sorry. I admit it, I was wrong. Very wrong about who you, by all accounts, are as a man.
I was wrong about you being cringey. You’re not. You’re wholesome. Simple, but not in a disparaging way.
I was wrong about you being corny. You’re not. You’re one of the few people in sports—and arguably the world—that appears to be completely comfortable in your own skin.
Honestly, watching you interact with your family—particularly your wife—was the part that stuck out most to me. —is By all accounts, you seem to be smart with money, a caring father, a good son and brother.
You also appear to be a man of outstanding, quiet faith. You live your beliefs with appearing to preach. You seem to care genuinely about teammates.
And by the way, you just happen to be very good at your job.
And like most of us in our late 30s, you’ve moved companies a couple of times for various reasons. Sometimes your choice, sometimes not. But you’re still out there digging. Watching you turn back the clock this season at age 38, playing at a high level and helping bring the Raiders back to respectability—all while also having to teach your replacement how to eventually take your job— a great lesson in humility for all of us. You don’t seem to mind actually helping the guy that is going to replace you. How many of us can say/would do that?
Even more than that, getting to return to a job and a place in Minnesota where you had success and were happy—not to mention finally getting a decent chance to win a title at this point in your career—serves as a little inspiration for millennials creeping toward 40 and still not sure they’ve found the place they want to be yet.
So Kirk, I doubt you’ll ever read this. But if you do, please accept my formal apology. I’m sorry I was not familiar with your game—or who you appear to be as a person.
But I am now.
We need more Kirk Cousins in this world: completely self-aware. No need to self-promote. Just show up, do your job well, put food on the table, be present for those that matter most.
So, thanks for being a great study in the power of being yourself. And quietly doing your job. And showing being a family man is cool.
I’m glad Minnesota traded back for you. And I’m glad you finally have a team that can contend for a championship.
And I wish you nothing but the best from here on out.
Your fan,
Drew
Host, The Message Pitch Podcast
