The Chairman of the Turkey Committee must admit he hadn't paid much attention to the career of Elon Musk and thus didn't realize what a bozo the guy was until he bought Twitter and changed it to X, which apparently is his favorite letter.

We've heard of favorite colors, animals and jersey numbers, but a fondness for a letter? That's kind of creepy, if you ask us here at the World Headquarters for the Turkey Awards.

So we still call it Twitter, and continue to sift through the cesspool of outrageous opinions and blatant lies to serve as our primary connection to social media.

And it was there the "Incredible Mr. Limpet," named in honor of a 1964 Don Knotts movie about a talking fish, asked this poignant question during a recent exchange:

"Will there ever be a Turkey Hall of Fame?"

What a grand idea, Mr. Limpet — and, by coincidence, we were looking for a way to properly honor Bobby Knight after he died on the first day of this month.

Knight was the winner in 1980, when he was still five years away from throwing a chair and 17 years from choking Neil Reed during an Indiana Hoosiers basketball practice.

Thus, on this Thanksgiving morn and 45 years after the first winner was revealed, we will introduce the inaugural TOTY Hall of Fame class.

We should note that all are deceased, which doesn't lessen their worthiness but does greatly reduce ceremony costs, and that winning a Grand Turkey was not a requirement for induction.

Here are the First Five:

Robert Montgomery Knight: For the reasons mentioned above, and so many more.

Wayne Woodrow Hayes: Known as Woody, the Ohio State football coach was the initial winner on Thanksgiving 1978. And a month later, he punched Charlie Bauman after the Clemson player's decisive interception in the Gator Bowl. Woody was fired and the Turkey of the Year award was handed terrific momentum for the future.

Carl Ray Pohlad: The Twins' second owner stands (at this point) as the only two-time winner: in 1987, for being such a terrible public speaker and failing to give bank employees the afternoon off for the World Series-winning parade; and in 1998, for being a pro sports owner who can't even make a decision on whom he wants to make decisions.

Sidney Hartman: The Chairman's longtime colleague Sid — the legendary Minneapolis newspaper and radio scoop monster, the great uniter who referred to St. Paul as "East Berlin" — never won the Grand Turkey, but so many of his close personal friends have done so that he has to be in this distinguished group.

Halsey Lewis Hall: Halsey died in 1977, a year before the Turkeys started, and he never would have been considered for the list. A grand announcer, a grand character, our own Bob Uecker in Minnesota, he's going in our Hall of Fame because the Twins amazingly haven't put him in theirs.

With that, forward ho! To the current honorees:

Megan Rapinoe: Emotional leader of the U.S. women's national soccer team flubs a penalty kick vs. Sweden and this overhyped bunch that could not have booted a ball in the ocean in Australia doesn't get out of the Round of 16 in the World Cup. Turkey Team of the Year.

Kirk Cousins: Vikings quarterback throws way under the sticks on fourth down to clinch the upset loss to New York Giants in last season's January playoff opener at the Zygidome. Kirk Nation offers the excuse he was about to get sacked. Try movin' a little. Turkey Play of the Year.

Joey Gallo: The only explanation for the Twins giving $11 million to Gallo was they felt a pressing need to replace Miguel Sano's strikeouts. The only thing Joey did worse than being late on high fastballs was flailing helplessly on every form of a breaking ball. Struck out 142 times in 332 plate appearances (42.8%) and batted .177. Turkey Player of Year.

Deion Sanders: Moves from Jackson State to Colorado. Calls team meeting and basically tells players, "We're bringing in better ones. Leave." The Buffs upset vastly overrated TCU 45-42 in their opener. "Nobody believed in us — and address me as Coach Prime," becomes the egomaniac's message. The Buffs are now 1-7 in the Pac-12 and lost their fifth in a row last Saturday — 56-14 at Washington State. He was Coach Wet 'N Sad on the sideline in Pullman. Turkey Football Coach of the Year.

Ben Johnson: The Chairman is not yet calling for Johnson's removal as Gophers men's basketball coach. Yet, he's already made Season 3 a fiasco by having the athletic department pay nearly $700,000 to bring in six no-appeal teams for nonconference games. There were fewer than 4,000 observers in Williams Arena for Tuesday night's awe-inspiring victory over Arkansas-Pine Bluff. Turkey Schedule of the Year.

And one more special citation:

Pete Maki: Twins pitching coach, known affectionately as "Mumblin' Pete," for all that mouth-covering when he goes to the mound to deliver such secrets as, "Throw strikes."

Come on, Pete. You look like a fourth-grader telling a naughty joke.

And now for our very elite head table as we mark the return of the Turkey Banquet, with our four finalists for Turkey of the Year:

Wolves: Not the basketball team. The real ones — the hundreds of packs of these beasts, now allegedly having fawns for both lunch and dinner. In Minnesota, they can't be trapped and they can't be shot, unless human life is in danger. They've been reported near Brainerd now. They're coming. Sarah Strommen, the wolf-loving DNR commissioner, turned down the invitation to represent these hungry creatures at today's banquet.

Meanwhile, you know that young moose that's drawn hundreds of fans while traveling north through Minnesota? There are going to be a lot of shrieks if some wolves spot it.

Kim Mulkey: We don't care how much she wins, at Baylor, LSU, wherever. She's a sideline maniac. Bobby Knight never got away with as much as Mulkey does. In the national finals, she was running along the side of the court, screaming, grabbing officials. No technicals, no reprimands from the NCAA. Now, she's busy trying to cover up what's going on with her star Angel Reese, so we're skeptical if Mulkey's going to make the banquet.

Kevin Warren: Follow along …

August 2021: Big Ten Commissioner Warren and commissioners of the Pac-12 and ACC sanctimoniously announce an "alliance" to ensure stability in major football conferences (after Texas and Oklahoma announced their departure from the Big 12 to the SEC).

July 2022: Warren and the Big Ten welcome UCLA and Southern California starting the fall of 2024. This starts the collapse of Alliance-partner Pac-12, which in its last fall football season happens to be the deepest conference in the nation for quality teams.

January 2023: Warren leaves to become president of the Chicago Bears, with bonuses no doubt from the Big Ten TV deals signed, although there was his problem selling off rights to NBC for prime-time games that were already held by Fox.

Good luck, Bears.

And now, for the Grand Turkey.

Previous winners have included "25 Years of Golden Gophers football (1992)" and "25 Years of the Timberwolves (2014)."

The time has come to honor another — and a much more popular entity — for a period of continued disappointment. The 2023 Turkey winner is:

"20 Years of Wild hockey."

The tickets and apparel get more expensive, and yet you keep streaming in from Woodbury and other suburbs, wearing your jerseys, filling the arena, accepting the idea that overtime wins are wins but overtime losses are not losses, but now realizing the predetermined outcome is to again make the playoffs and then go away quietly in the first round.

This season, the Wild seem prepared to do you a favor: miss the playoffs, so you don't have to bother making the advance payment and then checking your account to see if the rebate is in there yet after the playoffs end with two or three home games.

Let's face it: There hasn't been any spring fun with the Wild on West Seventh Street since Jacques Lemaire's amazing underdogs made that astounding run to the Western Conference finals in 2003.

This Wild Turkey is for you, ticket buyers. You have deserved so much more.

And to those not satisfied with the honorees when attending today's festivities, The Chairman would like to point out this:

Yes, we are the original Turkey of the Year Awards, but we don't have the money to succeed in the NIL (Nutcases Insufferable and Ludicrous) marketplace for Turkeys.

Meaning, our recruiting is terrible, our workers are low in talent and call in sick a lot, and we're always in danger of losing Turkeys to other higher-paying banquets.

These aren't excuses, they are facts, and The Chairman once again wants to reiterate:

It's all on me.