First, some context. Actually, no, first a directive: Go read The Revue (or at least the introduction) and then come back here.
If you’ve been keeping up with this silly, niche corner of Rock M’s coverage over the past few years, you’ll be familiar with the Disrespectful Play Index. It’s an adaptation of the brilliant Shea Serrano’s, “Disrespectful Dunk Index,” which remains one of the peak examples of twenty-first century sports rhetoric all these years later. Shea has moved onto bigger, weirder
things these days, but the example he laid for me and other sports writers is almost too big to put into words. He’s an icon, and I don’t say that lightly.
Essentially what the DPI does, other than reclaim a useful acronym from one of the sport’s most controversial penalties, is highlight the most disrespectful play of each game and put it on a pedestal using an air-tight, scientific set of measurements. Pretty simple, right?
And a note on “disrespect” before we start. You might read that word and think, “Kids these days…” ope, I’ll stop you right there, Boomer, don’t you think it’s time for your nap? You also might read that word and think, “oh, so the play that made the other team look the worst,” or, “the flashiest play?”
And my answer to those questions is yes! Disrespect, despite my rigorous, academic approach to its calculation, is ultimately a subjective quality. Sometimes a player can uncork a bonafide Sportscenter Top 10 play and get docked points because he failed to deliver on the softer aspects of the scale. Sometimes a player can reel in a 13-yard slant route to move the chains on third down and gain points because rolled into an elaborate somersault and lunged into his “first down” celebration.
It’s all about recognizing the fact that football is a game, college football is an even sillier version of that game and the only thing that can possibly matter about all of this is juicing every ounce of fun you can out of each moment. Most of these guys don’t go on to NFL careers, and they need to make these moments count.
So shotgun a lite beer and get ready for another season of the DPI… now gracing the site in its own post.
As a reminder, or an introduction, the following is the scale we’ll be using to measure how disrespectful the play was
Category 1: How difficult/impressive was the play? (0-20)
Category 2: How hard did the opposition try? (0-20)
Category 3: How much did his teammates help? (0-5)
Category 4: What did the player do immediately afterward? (0-20)
Category 5: How did everyone not involved react? (0-15)
Category 6: Is there a backstory/context to consider? (0-20)
And for the first time in 2025, here’s our DPI play of the week.
Category 1: How difficult/impressive was the play?
Look, I never played football at a competitive level. I can’t tell you how difficult it is to make plays like this seem routine. And if you have made a play like this at some level of football (high school, even), feel free to chime in.
But this, on its face, seems like about the most routine interception a linebacker could make. He’s in coverage — good coverage, it should be noted — on a crossing pattern, the QB throws behind his receiver ever so slightly and Dante McClellan simply jumps the route and dumps the receiver in the process. Low score, right?
Hang on there, Pop Warner, I think we need to give a little more credit to Mr. McClellan. Despite the FCSness of the opponent, McClellan is still a true freshman under the lights, getting his first taste of action at the college level. So however routine this play might seem, his instincts and ability to stay in coverage with a legitimate college-level wideout is impressive. The 80-yard run to the end zone is also fairly routine but, as we’ll see in our next section, he has to shake off a tackle and not entirely run out of juice before reaching the goal line. That’s a lot to ask of a youngster, but he got it done. So we’ll give him a score hump for that. 14/20
Category 2: How hard did the opposition try?
If there’s anyone I feel bad for coming out of Thursday’s game — anyone who isn’t Sam Horn or Blake Craig, that is — Luther Richesson. Brother was playing his first game in purple and white after transferring from Middle Tennessee and was also thrown into the deep end fast after presumed starter Austin Meyers was injured in the run up to the game. Getting your first taste of action with a new school against a defense like Mizzou’s? That’s a tough beat for our friend Luther.
So I give him a ton of credit for the effort he put into this play. At this point in the game it’s 54-0 and there are less than five minutes on the clock. It’s been a long night for the Bears, and seemingly their best chance at scoring has now gone by the way side. If I were him, I’d be trying to usher McClellan out of bounds at the very most.
But not our man Luther. He said, “hell no, I won’t go,” and made a beeline to… oh, McClellan’s back shoulder. Coming in from behind. Ah. OK, well that’s a choice you could make in that scenario. Let’s see how —
Mmm, yeah, that’s just about how I thought it might go for him. In the moment I was thinking to myself, “Shoot, he’s gonna catch him,” without realizing Richesson took the silliest angle, from a physics perspective, and ended up bouncing off of our beautiful freshman son like an overcooked meatball. But I can’t knock the effort, so nearly full marks to the score. 18/20
Category 3: How much did his teammates help?
Between you and me, this is my favorite section of the piece to write. So easy to discern a score. Did he get some good blocking? Cool, one or two points (oh, this section is scored on inverse, should’ve mentioned that.) Did he do it all on his own? Full marks!
Anyway, McClellan jumps the route by his lonesome, sheds Richesson like a wet paper bag by his lonesome and somersaults into the end zone by his lonesome. Give this man five more points. 5/5
Category 4: What did the player do immediately afterward?
You may be thinking, “it’s just a somersault,” but let me ask you, have you ever caught a football wearing full equipment, sprinted 80-yards, dodged a human being sprinting full speed at you and managed to stay on your feet? Yeah, I didn’t think so bud. Give him a break, jeez. 13/20
Category 5: How did everyone not involved react?
There is something so beautiful about this image to me. One of my favorite movies of all time is Godfrey Reggio’s 1982 experimental documentary Koyaanisqatsi, the Hopi word meaning, “life out of balance.” It’s a still, stirring portrait of the desolation brought on by almost a century’s worth of deforestation, industrialization and human intervention on the planet.
I bring that up to say that this image would not have made the cut because I think it represents life perfectly in balance. A 19-year-old with a ball in his hands, running as fast as possible. Another boy (relatively speaking) running after him and comically falling on his ass. A bigger boy chugging along after him. And another boy looking on with his best Edvard Munch impression.
Just boys being boys. What a game. 15/15
Category 6: Is there a backstory/context to consider?
As previously mentioned, Dante McClellan is a true freshman playing in his first game as a Mizzou Tiger, so there’s obviously a major ‘atta-boy element at play here.
But also consider that this game is so far out of hand at this point. This game has been out of hand for hours. This is a classic, “Stop, stop he’s already dead,” type of situation.
And this son of a gun did it anyway. My guy Dante saw Central Arkansas trying to weasel their way onto the scoreboard and said, “Hey, get the f*** outta here.”
Now that’s disrespect, theydies and gentlethem. 17/20
For snagging putting six more points on the head of a Central Arkansas team that just wanted to get on the bus and go home, Dante McClellan’s pick-six was 82 percent disrespectful to Central Arkansas, its fans and, most directly, Luther Richesson. Sorry, bud.
