Elbert Woods and his Ickey Shuffle will long be remembered as the epicenter of Super Hype XXIII.

It seems only justice that Woods didn’t get a chance to smear the history of the Super Bowl by strutting his stuff on the sidelines of Joe Robbie Stadium.

Obviously, Ickey is a good football player. He runs like a member of the Panzer Division. But the Ickey Shuffle?

Ickey, believe me, you’re no Fred Astaire.

Now I don’t mind football players dancing as long as it’s the right kind of dance.

The type of dancing I like is the kind Roger Craig does when he bursts into the clear, kicking so high his knees touch his nose. Or the two-step Earl Campbell used to do on many a tackler’s chest and face mask. Or the dance Billy Sims used to do around, through and high above entire defensive backfields.

But I just don’t understand the appeal of Woods’ dance. It’s so dull, so simple—so Ickey. Come on people, this dance is about as stylish as the Hustle or the Bump.

I wish Ickey would do the Curly Shuffle. So at least afterward a couple of guys would poke him in the eyes or give him a few brisk, vertical slaps to face.

Touchdown celebrations have never really excited me. I was never wild about Washington’s Fun Bunch or Mark Gastineau or Brigitte Nielsen, for that matter.

But there has never been a celebration dance as overplayed by the media as this one. Come on, Chicago Tribune, a diagram? At least the Trib’s graphic looked somewhat like the dance. The one the Associated Press sent out made Ickey look like a Bloomingdale mannequin.

Imagine what pure hell American citizens would have had to endure for the next year if Ickey had scored the Super Bowl’s winning touchdown and then shuffled on the sidelines.

First, he would appear on cereal boxes. Then a battery company would make a commercial with a miniature Woods toy, proclaiming, “Ickey will shuffle longer with Duracell.” Then Ickey would make guest appearances on Dance USA and American Bandstand. Boy, I’d really like to see Dick Clark shuffle.

The capper would be the Ickey Shuffle Dance Kit—you know, the kind that comes with the footprints you place on the floor. The main difference between this kit and the ones of the past would be the accessories. The Ickey kit would have only two footprints and those would have cleat marks.

Many a suburban kid everywhere would ask his dad for the kit. The dad, patting little Chip on the back, would say something like, “You don’t need it son. I’ve been practicing the old Ickster’s shuffle in my den. I can teach you right now.”

Ickey Shuffle ‘89 was just another case of a senseless, ridiculous topic being hyped to death during Super Bowl week. The only thing that rivaled shufflemania was the hype the Fridge got for being fat.

We can all be thankful, at least for awhile, that Ickey Woods didn’t dance and Jerry Rice did. We can hope that the rest of the Cincinnati team chokes before Super Bowl XXIV.

I guess maybe I sound bitter. Maybe I’m just a little jealous. Maybe the Ickey Shuffle really was something special.

Yeah, and maybe the Fridge will sign a ballet contract in the offseason.