Go (to hell) team!

 Unless you are a serious NFL nerd, you've probably never heard of De'Vondre Campbell, the presumably soon-to-former linebacker for the San Francisco 49ers. You've probably also never heard of Jack Pyburn, a soon-to-be-former edge rusher for the University of Florida Gators.

If you're of a certain age and cranky disposition, though, you're gonna hate what I'm about to tell you about them. I know this because I'm of a certain age and cranky disposition, and it's got me shaking my liver-spotted fist at the clouds and spluttering all sorts of "consarn-its" and "dagnab-its."

Let's start with Campbell.

Who, last night, in a blah 12-6 loss to the Rams, was called upon to enter the game because Dre Greenlaw and Dee Winters were dealing with injuries, and the linebacking corps had therefore become dangerously thin. Allow 49ers coach Kyle Shanahan to take it from there.

"He said he didn't want to play today," Shanahan said.

Which is to say, Campbell refused to go into the game. Then he walked off the field at the end of the third quarter. As Leon the me-first jock in one of those old beer ads said when told there's no "I" in team, "Ain't no 'we' either."

Leon, of course, was only a parody played for laughs. De'Vondre Campbell is (or was, since the Niners are likely to launch him into space any minute now) an actual NFL player. And you know what he did was well beyond the pale because even some of his teammates were ripping him afterward, and professional athletes hardly ever rip one another publicly.

"It's one person making a selfish decision. I've never been around anybody that's ever done that, and I hope I'm never around anybody who does that again," Niners tight end George Kittle declared.

"That's some sucka stuff to me, in my opinion," cornerback Charvarius Ward agreed.

I have no idea if either Kittle or Ward has ever heard of Jack Pyburn. But while we're talking about sucka stuff, we should include him as Exhibit A for why sucka stuff isn't limited to the professionals.

Pyburn, see, is a Florida Gator who apparently doesn't care about being a Florida Gator anymore unless there's something in it for him. And by "something", I mean A) a guarantee of of $45,000 a month; B) a guaranteed starting position at outside linebacker, including a guarantee to be in the lineup on all third downs; and C) more snaps at the OLB spot.

Now, let's be clear here: All of the above has merely been reported. It might be true, or it might be only partially true. But it is true Florida said "nah" to the aforementioned requests/demands or reported requests/demands, so Pyburn -- second on the team in tackles this season -- is saying "Later, Gator" and entering the transfer portal.

"Gee, Mr. Blob," you're saying now. "Isn't he worried his credits won't transfer?"

Oh, you sweet innocent child. What makes you think Jack Pyburn (or anyone else jumping into the portal two or three times these days) cares about that? What makes you think he's an actual scholar who goes to class because he's in it for an education, and who thinks a college degree is worth more than the sheepskin it's printed on?

Silly you. That went out with disco.

It went out the minute universities discovered thar's gold in them there Saturday afternoons. It went out when they started paying their coaches like CEOs and cutting chunky deals with the teevees and apparel companies, and then started sending out their players adorned with the logos of those apparel companies. And it really went out when the kids started following their lead and decided to be as mercenary as the grownups.

Now the Jack Pyburns and De'Vondre Campbells are one and the same, driven by the same impulses that always drive people when they reach the monetary stratosphere. They go from "This is a team effort" to "Team? What team?" in an eyeblink.

And, yeah, I know, "team" is a concept virtually layered with mustiness. It belongs with raccoon coats, bathtub gin and sis-boom-bah. With few exceptions -- one of which happens tomorrow, when Army plays Navy and the idea of pulling together toward a common goal gets its yearly moment in the sun -- it's just not that world anymore.

Codgers like me might hate it. But I-got-mine is the flavor of the month now.

I wonder, though, if the De'Vondre Campbells and Jack Pyburns realize what they're losing by following the prevailing zeitgeist. Perhaps the NFL has become so self-serving itself that some team will pick up Campbell despite the stunt he pulled last night. But, perhaps not. Perhaps he blew up his career with five little words ("I don't want to play") and just doesn't know it yet.

And Jack Pyburn?

I wonder what happens in 20, 25 years to him and all the other kids jumping schools every time something doesn't work out. I wonder if they'll miss the bond old teammates share because they didn't stick around long enough to form one. I wonder which school they'll identify with when they grow old because they didn't identify with one when they were playing.

Will Jack Pyburn still consider himself a Florida Gator when he grows old? Or will he consider himself a Tiger or Sooner or Cyclone or whomever? These kids who've transferred two, three times, who is their alma mater? And will they regret, down the road, not really having one?

See, the thing is, you can say go to hell, team, if you like these days. But what price do you pay when the team says go to hell back?