Marques Slocum's Fuck Lion. Final tally: 78.1 percent.

Once again — for the third consecutive year — Barbaro has fallen short. Here are his numbers for the last three years:

2006: 31.1 percent.
2007: 74.6 percent.
2008: 73.7 percent.

The voters continue to make Barbaro wait.

Anyway, congratulations to all Hall of Famers. To recap, here are the current members of the Deadspin Hall of Fame, with their year of election:

2006
Carl Monday
Kyle Orton
Clinton Portis
Run You Stupid Fucking Dinosaur, Run
Renee Thomas And Angela Keathley
Viking Sex Boat
You're With Me, Leather

2007
Ned

2008
Buzz Bissinger
Will Leitch
Isiah Thomas
Marques Slocum's Fuck Lion

Way to go, all. See you next year.

(Plaque by the engaged Jim Cooke.)

Isiah Thomas. Final tally: 84.1 percent.

Isiah becomes the first person to earn a spot in the Deadspin Hall of Fame and win a SHOTY. Congratulations, Isiah. You earned it. Oh, did you.

(Plaque by the engaged Jim Cooke.)

Buzz Bissinger. Final tally: 83.3 percent.

I congratulate Buzz on this honor. I do hope he signs his name, from now on, as "Buzz DHOF '08," like the ballplayers do.

(Plaque by the engaged Jim Cooke.)

Anyway, here are the percentages as of right now. The polls will officially close at 5 p.m. ET today.

• Isiah Thomas: 84.3 percent.
• Buzz Bissinger: 83.5 percent.
• Marques Slocum's Fuck Lion: 78.6 percent.
• Barbaro: 75.0 percent.
• Erin Andrews: 70.1 percent.
• Dana Jacobson: 69.8 percent.
• Kige Ramsey: 63.1 percent.
• Sean Salisbury: 60. 3 percent.
• Nightmare Ant: 55.8 percent.
• Matt Leinart: 46.6 percent.

So, if you have strong opinions on any of those totals, you have five hours to speak up. Because some of them are awfully close. Is this Barbaro's year, finally? Can Slocum hold on? Does Erin Andrews have a late push? Only you can decide. The five hour clock begins now.

Honestly, if he doesn't make it this year, I plan on putting him up for nomination as long as the site exists anyway. Why not? Don't we kind of have to?

But is he a Hall of Famer? Seventy five percent is the threshold for induction. Vote below: Polls will be open until next Monday afternoon. Vote as if tomorrow does not exist.

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Salisbury was a nominee last year, notching 62.4 percent. I am not sure if that interview will help that figure, or hurt it. But he's not on ESPN anymore. Again, don't know if that helps or hurts.

But is he a Hall of Famer? Seventy five percent is the threshold for induction. Vote below: Polls will be open until next Monday afternoon. Vote as if tomorrow does not exist.

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On June 20, I traveled to the headquarters of "YouTube Sports" to sit down for an interview with Kige Ramsey. It was a three-part interview because Kige has difficulty loading clips of more than three minutes. At the time I planned on running my own interview and story about Kige with CBS. But then I left the ClayNation column and moved over to Deadspin. Meaning the video interview existed in this internet netherworld — inexplicable yet clearly existing. Like Kige himself.

Since the interview was posted people have been emailing wanting to know the story behind the interview. What Kige was really like? How this came to be? Now, here it is.

About two weeks prior to June 20 I received a cryptic email message from youtube sports reporter Kige Ramsey asking whether I’d like to be interviewed by him. We exchanged emails. I assumed that maybe he was coming to Nashville to report from Titans training camp again. Kige disabused me of this notion rapidly. Informing me that he couldn’t come to Nashville but he wanted me to drive to Russellville, Kentucky and be interviewed at his parent’s house.

I decided this made perfect sense.

So on the afternoon of June 20, I drove 60 miles north to Russellville. Kige had given me the address to his house but I’d forgotten the printed directions. So I got twisted around fairly soon after arriving in Russellville. Making circle after circle through the small Southern town of 7,000—the Logan County seat—that Kige Ramsey calls home. Eventually, I found his street. I couldn’t decipher exactly which house was his because none of the houses had numbers on them, but I parked and walked to the front door of a small home that appeared to have a Kentucky Wildcats mailbox in the front yard. Surprisingly there were no large satellites to denote the headquarters of youtube sports.

I knocked for about five minutes. I’d wait a few minutes and then knock again. Nothing. Kige and I had made an appointment with one another and still…nothing. I looked down at my blackberry to confirm that the address was correct. Only my blackberry was no longer working. Not one bit of signal. At this point, I started to get a bit nervous. Primarily because walking around a rural Southerner’s house is always dangerous. There are guns and there are dogs 100% of the time. Don’t believe me? I’ve been bitten by a dog and I’ve been shot at while rolling a cheerleader’s house.

But I make the decision that perhaps the back door is the primary entrance. So I walk around a well-kept with brown shutters, the grass is trimmed short, there’s the welcoming hum of a window air-conditioning unit. And I stand knocking on the door in the backyard.

I scan the windows expecting at any moment to see the owlish eyes of Kige peering out over the windowsill at me, the internet’s own Boo Radley come to life. After a couple of minutes the doorknob rattles—I’m hoping I don’t see a gun barrel— and a woman opens the door. She stands, shyly, inside the dim expanse of the doorway. At first I think she’s very young, then, she steps closer to me, out of the dimness, and I see that she’s retarded. She smiles at me and opens her mouth. An older woman steps in front of her then. My heart is hammering.

“What did I tell you about opening this door for strangers?” she asks.

Then she turns her attention to me. “I’m looking for Kige,” I say.

“Kige who?” she asks.

“Kige Ramsey,” I say, “of youtube sports.”

“The what tube?”

“The Ramsey’s.”

“Oh, the Ramsey’s?” She places her hands on her hips and looks closely at me. “They’re on the other side of the street.”

I leave then. Get in my car and floor it across the highway to a decent-sized white house with a large oak tree in the front yard. The front door is a bit ajar—there’s a screen door closed in front of it—and I can see the flickering lights of a television through the front window. I climb out of the car and walk slowly across the front yard. Up the steps, then push the doorbell. Moments later, I’m greeted by a giant.

Kige is a mountain of a man. And that’s no exaggeration. I’m 6 foot 180 pounds and he towers above me.He's easily 6'5 and about 250 pounds. His bulk is disguised by the camera. Primarily because there is never anyone else to judge him against. His glasses are a bit askew, he’s wearing white socks up to mid-calf, a Western Kentucky Hilltoppers T-shirt, and shorts. And he’s looking down at me from one step higher. I’m overwhelmed. For a moment I know what Bob Costas’s entire life has been like. Kige is larger than life.

“Well…hey,” Kige says to me ponderously.

He opens the door and I follow him inside. There are no lights on aside from the television —a fifty inch big screen that is playing Sportscenter.

“I have to stay on top of the news,” Kige says, gesturing to the screen. “My mom and dad are gone.” Baseball highlights are playing and Kige sits back down on the couch. After a short while I sit down beside him. Neither of us is speaking. We watch Sportscenter for about five minutes before I ask when we’re planning on doing the interview.

“Well, you ready?” Kige asks. “Let’s go to the studio.”

The "studio" is in a small alcove off to the side of the television room. Kige opens the door and steps through first.

“Lots of people don’t believe I do this from the first floor,” he says, grinning at me.

Kige has a practiced air of conversation. He often makes statements and then waits for you to respond. Like now. We stare at each other. Staring...staring...staring...

“Cool,” I say.

Having attained his response, Kige pushes his glasses up on to his nose and leads us inside the studio.

As we enter the wood-paneled alcove Kige’s Wall of Honor is on the right side. Scrawled there, in pen, are several athletes names, their numbers, and their positions. A few feet further along the wall Kige has posted the Democratic and Republic presidential nominees. He has their names written at the top of the page and nothing else beneath them.

There’s a small scuffle from near his brown card table. Kige is flipping through his books but can’t seem to locate Dixieland Delight. “I know I’ve got it here somewhere,” he says. On the wall directly in front of me are three pictures: UK coach Billy Gillispie, Western Kentucky’s new basketball coach, Ken McDonald, and Abraham Lincoln. To the far right is a weight bench —a large purple ball that’s used for abdominal exercise rests on top. Above that is a milk mustache Jeff Gordon poster.

Kige is setting up the camera in front of us. The small, gray camera easily fits inside one of his massive palms. He sets it up, Kige turns on the klieg lights (in this case a large white one from Wal-Mart) and I enter from stage left after Kige’s introduction. We talk for about four minutes. Topics include: Jim Rome, SEC football, and Kige’s opinion of sideline reporters. Kige hates them. “They don’t do anything,” he explains. I ask whether he would be interested in doing sideline reporting. “I don’t want to be typecast,” he says.

The first segment goes well and eventually Kige lumbers out of his seat and crosses the four foot distance that separates us from the wood paneled wall. “Uh oh,” he says, “the camera cut you out of the shot. All we’ve got is your voice. We’re going to have to do this in the living room.”

I ask for a mug to drink from so we can make sure and do the interview right. Kige leads me to the kitchen and selects a black cup with Asian script on the side. “This is a good one,” he says.

Back out in his parent’s den, Kige is struggling to move his brown card table from the studio alcove to the den. At long last he manages to succeed. “There,” he says. We do the interviews. That evening, when I watch them, I’ll note that Kige has a better video presence than I do. The camera loves Kige.

After we finish the three-part interviews (this time I’m in the frame) Kige wants to give me a tour of Russellville. I tell him I don’t have time but that we can go grab some lunch. It’s his choice. “Take me somewhere good,” I say.

Kige nods. We both go outside and I follow him into the road — thinking that we’re headed to a meat and three on the town square — a good southern restaurant. He’s driving his mom’s blue Chrysler LeBaron. We drive for about five minutes and Kige puts on his left turn signal.

He’s pulling into Taco Bell.

At the last moment though, he swerves the steering wheel and pulls in next door to the Taco Bell. At Captain D’s. We park and he bounds over to my car. I climb out. “I almost went to Taco Bell,” he says, “but I knew Captain D’s would be much better.”

Inside at Captain D’s Kige orders a fish and chicken meal. I opt for chicken. It’s my treat. As we stand waiting for our food Kige says, “Do people recognize you out and stuff?” “Some times,” I say. Kige nods ponderously. “Not much for me,” he says.

At that exact moment a woman leaving Captain D’s calls to us. “Hey there, Kige,” she says, “how’s your daddy and momma doing?”

Kige answers and they leave after waving at one another. There are only a few people in the Captain D’s with us. “She doesn’t watch the show,” he says.

We head to our seats and continue eating. Kige talks about how he’s posted over 240 videos and how much work that’s been. He’s not sure exactly what comes next and he’s gaining critics of late. This is Kige in winter, even though it’s summer at Captain D’s.

“You know,” he says, without prompting, “people are starting to accuse me of selling out because I have sponsors and stuff now. But what do they know? I’ve got to make a living, right?”

I offer him my hushpuppies and he takes them. Shovels one in his mouth. Whole. Kige talks about how his list of sources is growing, particularly in regards to Western Kentucky basketball. Even still he’s unsure what the future holds. We pause in contemplative silence. Eventually Kige Ramsey breaks the silence. “But, you know I almost made the Deadspin Hall of Fame last year. That's an awesome site.”

I suppose I can just leave you with videos, if you were somehow just beamed here.

The original:

And, of course, the brilliant remix by Mr. Skeets, who has taken over the site today.

But is he a Hall of Famer? Seventy five percent is the threshold for induction. Vote below: Polls will be open until next Monday afternoon. Vote as if you just pissed the shit out of yourself.

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The true genius of Skeets' original post was its simplicity; it was simply Nightmare Ant, and nothing else. It was a truly collaborative effort bringing Nightmare Ant to national prominence, and we should all take a considerable bit of pride from that.

Supposedly, Nightmare Ant's real name is the Mad Ant, and he's the mascot of Ft. Wayne Mad Antz in the D-League. His season goal? "Cheering the Mad Ants on to victory and making all of you smile." Yeah, about that ...

But is he a Hall of Famer? Seventy five percent is the threshold for induction. Vote below: Polls will be open until next Monday afternoon. Vote as if tomorrow does not exist.

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Up until affair de Nadel, Andrews had enjoyed a relatively unencumbered (and amazingly rapid) rise through the ranks of sideline reporters. One suspects the observations of a bald, amusing suburban columnist are unlikely to slow that.

I think Deadspin, actually, is the only blog left that hasn't interviewed Andrews. I guess we've always played hard-to-get.

But is she a Hall of Famer? Seventy five percent is the threshold for induction. Vote below: Polls will be open until next Monday afternoon. Vote as if tomorrow does not exist.

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In case you didn't remember the campaign video:

By now, I certainly hope you've seen all the videos. I still love that the shows have a full production staff. They're so good that you don't even notice all the CGI.

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Do you own any pets, and if so what do you have?
i got a fuck lion now come fuck wit me

Who do you admire most?
My mom CARLA, dat bitch da shit, i love her i think she da realest bitch alive

When do you plan on getting married?
it dont matta cuz i hope my wife know ima be playa 4 life

Sadly, Slocum is no longer a member of the Michigan Wolverines, which means this might be the one honor left that he has a chance at earning. It might be all he has.

But yeah, still: I'm totally getting that fuck lion.

But is he a Hall of Famer? Seventy five percent is the threshold for induction. Vote below: Polls will be open until next Monday afternoon. Vote like the wind.

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Lest we forget, by the way, that back before the photos, Leinart actually had sex with Paris Hilton. That's about a million times worse than a beer bong and some coeds. But hey: He loves puppies.

And remember: The Buzzsaw have been asking Leinart to cool it for a while now. I see no reason he can't continue down both paths; insane alcohol exploits AND a Super Bowl title. He'd make a better Joe Namath than that other guy.

But is he a Hall of Famer? Seventy five percent is the threshold for induction. Vote below: Polls will be open until next Monday afternoon. Vote like the wind.

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So much to choose from, Isiah-wise, though I'll always be partial to "Isiah Thomas' Knicks Legacy, Summed Up In One Possession." So great:

And that doesn't even take that sexual harassment case, Stephon Marbury's mystery dirt and, of course, "Sunt." There's just so much to choose from. I still miss him, even if he's not really gone.

But is he a Hall of Famer? Seventy five percent is the threshold for induction. Vote below: Polls will be open until next Monday afternoon.

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The above picture didn't actually come out until a week-and-a-half after the Mike-and-Mike roast — I will never, ever tire of Trey Wingo's reaction there — which was long after we knew about "Fuck Touchdown Jesus." She was suspended by ESPN for a week, but that didn't stop protests from the Catholic League. (Remember: If the Catholic League and that dope Bill Donohue are angry with you, you're doing something right.)

I still think the picture, though, is what cinched Dana's nomination for the Deadspin Hall of Fame. I mean, can't you imagine how that plaque would look?

But is she a Hall of Famer? Seventy five percent is the threshold for induction. Vote below: Polls will be open until next Monday afternoon.

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As always, some parameters:

1. This is not Sportshuman of the Year. This is simply people/concepts/teams/zygotes/whatever who could be up for nomination. It does not matter if their notoriety/brilliance has come in the last calendar year. Barbaro has now been nominated for the Deadspin Hall of Fame twice, falling short each time. (The plaque is fake.)

2. The threshold for induction is 75 percent. Considering how difficult it is to get collective Internet people to agree on anything, this sorts the proverbial wheat from the proverbial chaff. (Whatever chaff is.) Last year, only Ned made the cut. Here's how last year's nominees were doing the day before voting ended.

3. Do not be intimidated to toss out any nomination you want in the comments section. I will sort through all of them and pick the top 10 nominees. They will be put up to a vote, two-a-day, every day next week. Monday , August 25, will be the last day of voting, and inductees will be announced Tuesday, August 26. It is good, however, to keep perspective; just because you're talking about Michael Phelps now does not mean you will be talking about him in a year.

4. Run forth, young maniacs, and nominate. Voting begins Monday.

We’ve given Leitch plenty of skewering here today. But, as you can tell, we kid because we love. Leitch, you have not only helped revolutionize the way sports are covered in this day and age, you also helped redefine what it means to be a sports fan. Three years ago, being a sports fan meant you had to be a know-it-all, armchair coaching dipshit. You’ve helped destroy all that self-seriousness. You’ve helped make sports fun again. I cannot think of a better legacy to leave. And to accomplish it all while being just about the nicest person around is a minor miracle. I think I speak for us all when I say, from the bottom of my heart: Thank you. Thank you very, very much.

So here’s to you, Will Leitch. May your new career bring you much newfound wealth and prosperity. We’ll miss you terribly after tomorrow, especially once Denton manages to ruin this site for good. Adios, good friend. Don’t be a stranger.

And now I ask that you all join me in raising your glass, whatever may be in it, and saying with me:

CHEERS, YOU MAGNIFICENT BASTARD.

Daulerio: And, honestly, you all must come back tomorrow. Mr. Leitch also his share of surprise posts — ones that will bring his editorship at Deadspin to its logical, fitting conclusion...

Frankly, we kind of like that it's difficult to break into the Hall of Fame. (Honestly, there are a couple choices from last year we're not sure will last the test of time.) It is the Hall of Fame, after all; it should be special and difficult to enter. That said, we were pretty surprised Barbaro didn't sneak in; right there is the plaque we had set up for him. We think he'll probably stay on the ballot, every year, just for fun. (Obviously, with no copy.)

If you're still disappointed in the results ... there is always the SHOTY ... just a few months away.

And if you're wondering who we voted for, we went with Ned, Barbaro, "Lemme Know," 02/01/07 and the ESPN Memo. But the glory of it is that we, like everybody else, have but just one vote.

Deadspin Hall Of Fame

Ned. Final tally: 77.9 percent.

The only guy to make it in this year — and we'll discuss that a bit more later — is a man who, without question, deserves it. And he'll be back on the field this year. We cannot wait.

(Plaque by the whirlpool of activity that is Jim Cooke)

• Ned: 78. 1 percent.
• Barbaro: 75.3 percent.
• Kige Ramsey: 72.9 percent.
• Michael Vick: 70.3 percent.
• February 1, 2007: 70.1 percent.
• Pac Man Jones: 69.9 percent.
• "Lemme Know": 65.6 percent.
• ESPN Memo: 64.4 percent.
• Sean Salisbury: 62.2 percent.
• Brady Quinn: 53.2 percent.

A reminder that the threshold for induction is 75 percent. So, last chance. Make it count.

Last year, Vick's brother was nominated for the Hall, but he fell just short. Despite the stingy nature of the voters this year ... we'd have to think his older bro's got a pretty good shot. But what do we know? The real question: Could he give an induction speech from jail? We do love that he's coming up for nomination the day of his guilty plea. That makes sense.

But is he a Hall of Famer? Seventy five percent is the threshold for induction. Vote below: Polls will be open until next Monday morning.

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We never thought the whole uprising thing has anything to do with Simmons himself, and, in fact, we always felt a little bad about some of the comments about the Sports Gal, among other things. It was about a company not really understanding how the Web works, and watching people rush the castle and let the royal court know what they thought. It was immature and ribald and chaotic. But, most important: It was hilarious. It just felt good, you know?

But is it a Hall of Famer? Seventy five percent is the threshold for induction. Vote below: Polls will be open until next Monday morning.

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To date, we have:

• Vote ESPN Memo
• Vote Pac Man Jones
• Vote Barbaro
• Vote Ned

Nothing for (or from) Kige Ramsey yet. It's gonna be close.

We knew AJ was ready to stir some shit up down there, but until that picture of him and Sean Salisbury showed up in our mailbox, we had no idea how far he was willing to go. Next thing we knew, he was BLEEDING ORANGE AND GREEN, being eyed by Trey Wingo and, of course, making friends with Stuart Scott. It was a virtuoso performance ... and half the good stuff never even made it to the site. It was an epic, bravura week ... and Lemme Know remains the sordid highlight.

We're actually just using "Lemme Know" as shorthand; this nomination should stand for the whole Super Bowl trip. To keep in mind, when you vote.

But is it a Hall of Famer? Seventy five percent is the threshold for induction. Vote below: Polls will be open until next Monday morning.

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Is it a sport? How about some television criticism? What about Dan Patrick leaving ESPN? And he even wants to help Nicole Richie! And yes: He single-handedly saved "Who's Now?"

Without him, we would be lost. With him ... we are found.

But is he a Hall of Famer? Seventy five percent is the threshold for induction. Vote below: Polls will be open until next Monday morning.

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It all started with that whole strip club shooting thing — which, we remind you, did leave a man paralyzed — and was gussied up by the whole Making It Rain business, a phrase for which a grateful nation of white people thanks Pac Man. And then was kicked out of the league for a year and plans on spending that time rappin' and rasslin'. It has been a busy year.

But is he a Hall of Famer? Seventy five percent is the threshold for induction. Vote below: Polls will be open until next Monday morning.

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We learned that ESPN employees desperately need cash fast. We learned employees can't keep the trees. We learned ESPN employees don't like their own phones. And we mustn't forget John Skipper's view of a leader, and, of course, the bike rack. It was endless, endless entertainment. It's just like your office. Depressingly.

But is it a Hall of Famer? Seventy five percent is the threshold for induction. Vote below: Polls will be open until next Monday morning.

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Our other two films so far, both made on behalf of Ned, are here (by Proffessor Jerkwheat) and here (by Chad Sexington). We had no idea there was such filmmaking talent amongst the comments, and it's clear that at some time in the near future we're going to have to have a Deadspin Film Festival.

Barbaro, Champion Of Greatness [YouTube]

Since then, he not only was almost on the cover of Vanity Fair, taken the form of a Cheeto and, oh yeah, won Deadspin's 2006 Sportshuman Of The Year award. His qualifications would seem to be self-evident. But last year: 31.1 percent. Bruce Sutter never even made that upward leap. Of course, Bruce Sutter is still alive, and never saved America.

But is he a Hall of Famer? Seventy five percent is the threshold for induction. Vote below: Polls will be open until next Monday morning.

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Yeah, that will definitely do it. When you add in his accidental dropping of "Jew," his protest too much rant and new found Balls friendship, we think he's more than qualified. And that's not even accounting for his trenchant NFL analysis!

But is he a Hall of Famer? Seventy five percent is the threshold for induction. Vote below: Polls will be open until next Monday morning.

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We of course will provide equal time to any don't-vote-for-Ned videos.

Ned Campaign Ad [Ned For Deadspin Hall Of Fame]

The most famous, of course, is the one from AJ Hawk's wedding, but he also grabs the eye when hanging out with Bret Michaels, grabbing the packages of children or just glamming up for photo shoots.

Potential? Brady Quinn's already there.

But is he a Hall of Famer? Seventy five percent is the threshold for induction. Vote below: Polls will be open until next Monday morning.

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Yes, it was Ned's crutches of destruction that inspired us, his historic courage in the face of overwhelming odds serving as a reminder of humanity's true potential for strength and hope. Ned stood for so much, if you can consider a guy with crutches "standing."

But is he a Hall of Famer? Seventy five percent is the threshold for induction. Vote below: Polls will be open until next Monday morning.

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In case you've forgotten, here is last year's inaugural class:

• You're With Me, Leather
• Carl Monday
• Kyle Orton
• Clinton Portis
• "Run, You Stupid Fucking Dinosaur, Run!"
• Vikings Sex Boat
• Renee Thomas And Angela Keathley

As with last year, everything is up for nominations: People, memes, inside jokes, events, teams, whatever. (We remind you that last year's SHOTY winner didn't even make it in the hall, though he's available again this year.) Unleash your nominations in the comments, and we'll be bringing these up, two-by-two, for a vote next week. Two years of this little site; seems like almost 103 weeks.

(UPDATE: Outstanding stuff in the comments so far. We feel obliged to point out that nominations do NOT have to be from the last 12 months; they can be anything in Deadspin history you feel was overlooked or whose importance is just now being realized. The Last Calendar Year provision applies only to the SHOTY. Carry on.)

Presenting the final (for now) member of the inaugural class of the Deadspin Hall Of Fame ...

Carl Monday.

An obvious pick, and we can think of no greater honor. By the way, "Run You F—-ing Dinosaur, Run!" was just over the 75 percent threshold but was plagued by countless "voting irregularities." So, sorry, we couldn't include it ...

Naw, just kidding.

We had to allow the Chicago-Daley-type votes, because, frankly, stuffing ballot boxes for an obscure phrase about a furry dinosaur seems like the very definition of the Deadspin way. As for us, we voted for: Orton, cheerleaders, Stephen A. Smith, the dinosaur, the sex boat ... and Barbaro.

As mentioned, today is the one year anniversary of Deadspin. (Look, here's our "real" post. Ignore the date, it's wrong.) We will be "celebrating" deep into the night tonight, but we wanted to thank you for making the last year of our lives as enjoyable as one could possibly hope for. We don't know about you, but we're planning to have many more. Thank you.

(Plaque by Jim Cooke.)

Presenting the next member of the inaugural class of the Deadspin Hall Of Fame ...

Clinton Portis. Final tally: 79.2 percent.

If Portis can stay healthy for a few more years, maybe sneak in a Super Bowl or two, he might have a chance at the actual Hall of Fame in Canton. Though we suspect he'd rather be here.

(Plaque by Jim Cooke.)

Presenting the next member of the inaugural class of the Deadspin Hall Of Fame ...

Kyle Orton. Final tally: 80.0 percent.

All inauguration speeches are encouraged, preferably while shirtless in some sort of random suburban household.

(Plaque by Jim Cooke.)

Presenting the next member of the inaugural class of the Deadspin Hall Of Fame ...

The Minnesota Vikings Sex Boat. Final tally: 84.2 percent.

All inauguration speeches are encouraged (as are, since they still haven't come out, pictures from the boat).

(Plaque by Jim Cooke.)