Eight Minutes of Ridiculous: Finding Joy In An Unexpected Place

It’s not all about football.

I rarely spend time on online videos. But the other day, a Facebook reel titled Eight Minutes of Ridiculous caught my eye. I clicked and spent the next eight minutes enjoying perfection.

The video was a compilation of kick-off and punt returns by Football Hall of Famer Devin Hester, the return man who electrified Bears fans for almost a decade.

You don’t need to be a football fan to appreciate the flawlessness of those plays. Hester would field a kick, glance at the eleven angry men charging at him, and in an instant make his choice. Sometimes he’d hesitate, other times he’d surge forward, or when it seemed prudent, cut back or dart to the side.

He could slip past tacklers or simply outrun them, with bursts of speed that left defenders gasping. You could feel his joy, as well as that of the teammates who threw their bodies into blocks to clear his path. For the man who returned more kicks for touchdowns than anyone else in NFL history, his end-zone celebrations were strikingly modest.

The videos also capture the amazement in the voices of countless announcers. Even neutral broadcasters couldn’t help but sound awed. But it was Jeff Joniak, the Bears’ radio voice, who immortalized Hester with his call: “Devin Hester, you are ridiculous.” Ever since, in Chicago, “Hester” and “ridiculous” have been synonymous.

Perfection is rare: Nadia Comăneci’s perfect 10 in 1976. Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa. The first iPhone design. Some say perfection is the enemy of good. But for eight minutes in my office, perfection in motion brought me joy at a time when joy can be hard to find.

Thank you, Devin Hester. You are, indeed, ridiculous.