Classic card of the week

Billy Ray Smith, 1991 Pro Line Portraits series

Let me ask you a question, and I want you to be honest with me: How many lightening bolts are on the outfit you are wearing right now? If your answer is: less than 800,000, then you are dead to me.

I feel like somebody is messing with me when it comes to this card. It doesn’t seem possible that this is real. Zubaz? Flowing mullet? Mustache? Billy Ray? Wristbands? It’s the wristbands that really take it over the top for me. Everything else is moderately feasible. I mean, did I personally ever own a pair of Zubaz? No. But I thought about it once. The mustache-mullet combination is a sign of the times, I suppose. And I would be less shocked if this guy didn’t have a two-name first name. But it’s the wristbands that make me question the integrity of this card. I don’t know what to believe anymore. Let’s hear what Billy Ray has to say:



Preparation is the key for me. I wasn’t blessed with blinding speed, or Herculean strength, but I spend a lot of time in the film room

I bet you thought that this was Billy Ray Smith’s gym outfit, in which case you are wrong, and also an idiot for even thinking that. This is actually Billy Ray’s preparation outfit. You see, contrary to what the front of the card implies, Billy Ray was not blessed with Herculean strength. And if you are never going to become as strong as Hercules, then there is absolutely no point to working out. Rather, Billy Ray Smith would simply throw on a pair of comfortable lightening pants, possibly also a lightening shirt, a pair of humongous wristbands (preparation is sweaty!), and head into the film room and break down an opponent’s offense until it was time for Step by Step, which was his favorite show. But why was Billy Ray so focused on preparation?

If the runner is coming at you, you better look for some offensive lineman who is pulling to trap you, because he is going to hit you in the ear hole.

I can picture Billy Ray Smith in the film room, watching game tape of the previous week, and rewinding the play where he gets hit in the ear hole, as he furiously jots down in his notebook, “Don’t get hit in the ear hole!!!” over and over again, his wrists sweating profusely.

Did you know?
A 1995 lawsuit claimed that Zubaz’s slogan -- “Dare to be different” -- posed a challenge that many people accepted under false pretenses; namely, that different = not horrible.