How I Acquired Colt McCoy’s Digits and You Can TooPosted: March 4, 2012
Fake Twitter accounts are kinda like LMFAO songs — immature, perhaps, but a shitload of fun. My friend BT is largely considered to be the Michelangelo of fake Twitters, and his Sistine Chapel came in the form of a phony Robert Quinn page (@RQuinn42) that started to take off around this time last year. Unbeknownst to BT, the defensive end from North Carolina had his own Twitter at the time, but it was managed by family members and didn’t have the “verified” blue checkmark. This made matters 10x funnier when the bogus account began to amass followers.
@RQuinn42 was further legitimized when fellow NFL Draft prospects began to acknowledge it. The first notable one was A.J. Green who, apropos of nothing, proceeded to direct message the account his cell phone number. With Green’s digits secured, BT concocted one of the greatest plans of all time: to call the former Georgia wide receiver while the Carolina Panthers, slated to pick first, were on the clock. If you watch the draft, you know that when the camera cuts to a player on the phone it typically indicates that he will be picked next. Ideally, Green and Cam Newton (Carolina’s actual selection) would be talking on their cell phones simultaneously, causing mass confusion and lava to erupt from Chris Berman’s befuddled face.
At least that’s how it was supposed to work out; however, Green didn’t answer. We dreamt of Mel Kiper coming on the air to report “Sources close to the Green family tell me A.J. was chatting with a high school student in Cleveland, and not, in fact, Panthers GM Marty Hurney.”
Another amusing aspect of the @RQuinn42 phenomenon were the online watchdogs who thought they were doing God’s work by exposing the account’s fake nature. One such member of the Twitter Gestapo, @Tar_Heel_Smitty, purported to be “the BIGGEST Tar Heel in existence!” His profile picture rendered this declaration ambiguous, as we could never determine whether he meant in size or in spirit. Smitty was especially furious when the pseudo-Quinn received retweets and follows from influential NFL scribes and TV personalities like Peter King and Adam Schefter.
The account was so believable that NFLDraftInsider.com, not exactly a paragon of journalistic authority, reached out to it, hoping to land an interview with “Robert Quinn”. BT happily obliged and provided ridiculous answers for every question. The last remaining relic of this email exchange is the following picture:
Take a moment of silence to commemorate the absurdity of shouting out “a long-time friend’s club called Fat Kid Bungalow”. Inexplicably, this didn’t make the self-proclaimed NFL Draft Insider think twice about @RQuinn42’s credibility. While the Fat Kid Bungalow shuttered in December, it lives on in our hearts.
The tomfoolery came to a screeching halt when Smitty’s “vigilance” was publicly commended by the real Robert Quinn “via Tammy”:
(Extremely important side note: Confirming basic laws of karma, @Tar_Heel_Smitty was forced to resign his post as a police sergeant in North Carolina last July amidst scandal. Supposedly, he let a UNC football player out of a speeding ticket.)
When NFL Draft Insider learned that he had been duped, he threatened those of us with fake accounts to “bring the league office into this mess.” We imagined Roger Goodell landing a helicopter on top of our high school and leading BT and his cohorts away in handcuffs. Obviously, everyone was all for this happening.
A slew of new fake accounts came about in the wake of @RQuinn42’s demise. The apex of my faux-Twitter career was @JCameron84, whose implied identity was recent USC graduate and Browns tight end Jordan Cameron. A testimonial from Bengals linebacker and Erin Andrews aficionado Rey Maualuga (“Much love to the homie @JCameron84 who’s gonna be doing big things in Cleveland #TrojanNation”) provided the page with sufficient momentum.
Later that night, I woke up to a direct message from Mark Sanchez that read: “Hey- Colt McCoy wants to throw with you. Call [XXX-XXX-XXXX] asap.” I texted Colt and exchanged in a brief back-and-forth with the Browns starting quarterback:
Me: Colt, it’s Matt Borcas. Sanchise said you wanted to play catch with me.
Colt McCoy: ?
I have not ruled out replying to this message in the future.
No longer in my prime, I have since retired from the pastime I once enjoyed so much. Nonetheless, the recent NFL Combine made me nostalgic for the days that I added names like “Dez Bryant”, “Sam Bradford”, “Steven Jackson”, and “Colt McCoy” to my address book with regularity. Maybe I’ll give it another go this season. Who knows?