Jason Taylor Dishes on His Miami Dolphin Boycott

"What Tony and Bill Dolphins-seem-to-be-moving-on-without-Taylor" target="_blank">don't know, won't hurt them."

And that's how my interview with kinda-sorta Miami Dolphin defensive end Jason Taylor began.

I hadn't even asked a question yet.

Even so, it wasn't hard to decipher that he's not fond of the Tuna.

"You know, I can't figure out why the Dolphins hired the Tuna. I remember back in the '90s when we were being told not to eat tuna, because sometimes dolphins got caught in the tuna traps."

He took a drink of his Milky Way Latte and stared off into the distance.

"This Dolphin feels caught in a Tuna trap."

Somewhat perplexed, I asked the strapping—yet soft, agile, and sensitive—6'6" former Defensive Player of the Year to elaborate.

"You see, Gary...is that your name?" He asked.

"Actually, Mr. Taylor, it's 'Greg.'"

"Oh, sorry, Craig. Names are important. And you don't have to call me 'Mr. Taylor'—it's not an autograph session."

I sighed.

"Thanks, Jamie."

"That's Jason."

"That's fine...how's about firing me that elaboration?"

"What were we talking about?"

Sensing that this was a good time to change the subject, I pulled out my pen...and notebook. And started asking important questions.

"So, Jason, I understand that you won't be attending any Dolphins workouts during the offseason...why not?"

"Well, Gerald, I'm 33, and I'm not getting any younger. I went through an awful season last year. I mean, we were excrement."

"So during the offseason, Cap'n Blockbuster hires Parcells to turn the franchise around. I don't want to go through a rebuilding process. Do you know how many different head coaches I've played for?"

"Um, no, I'm not really that kind of reporter," I admitted.

"Oh, are you one of those celebrity reporters?"

Sensing there may be another, more important story in my future if I posed to be a non-sports entity, I panicked.

And then blurted, "I'm Kevin Frazier! Entertainment Tonight!"

Upon my pseudo-confession, Taylor sized me up. I knew the strategy carried great risk. Surely a guy who'd studied so much film, in addition to being known for his exceptional intelligence, would figure out that I was not a black man!

I began to sweat. I may have even broken wind. A nervous habit...and possibly the result of the ill-advised combination of pizza and hot wings for lunch.

"Kevin Frazier...I thought you were black!"

"Actually, I prefer African American, and I happen to be undergoing some chemical treatments that wash me out. You know, to keep my skin clear due to, um, all the sun, er, no, chlorine from swimming, wait, um, makeup I have to wear...because...I'm on TV so much."

Fortunately, Taylor bought the whole story. Hook, line, and sinker.

Which meant I had to control my natural urge to soil myself.

"That...is...so...Hollywood! I had to wear so much makeup for Dancing with the Stars—I totally understand."

"So Jay, what's on the horizon for you since, uh, DWTS is finished? And congrats on finishing second to a female figure skater, by the way."

Taylor smiled. "Six months ago, using a line like that—mm, mmm, I would've dropped you like nobody's business."

I laughed nervously. And made a mental note not to crack any more "losing to figure skater" jokes.

Taylor took a bite of quiche and detailed the situation.

"Well, you see, my owner hired a guy named Bill Parcells (apparently, Taylor forgot that I, I mean, Kevin Frazier, once worked for ESPN) and we don't get along so well. Although we've never really publicly acknowledged that there's an issue."

"But Dancing with the Stars actually started me thinking about life after football."

"I want to be a reality TV star."

At this point, I ordered a fruit punch and ginger ale. And some Chex mix.

It was apparently about to get all stupid up in here.

"So I'm working with a vocal coach and plan to try out for American Idol. Season Eight auditions should start around training camp."

"So that explains the boycott."

I was absolutely astonished.

That a man so smart could be so dumb.

"Jason, to be an AI participant, you have to be between the ages of 16 and 28...you're 33."

I gave the undersized D-lineman time to chew on the knowledge I'd just dropped on him.

"Crap, man. Crap!"

"Sorry, dude, I thought you knew."

"What about The Hills?"

"Too old."

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