Williamses would be terrible escape artists

They'd be terrible escape artists.

First off, Vikings players Pat Williams, 317 pounds, and Kevin Williams, 311 pounds, are memorably large. Second, they didn't do a very good job on Tuesday of coordinating with the driver of their getaway vehicle when they attempted their shifty exit from the Hennepin County office building.

To be clear, the Williamses were trying to escape media. There's footage at startribune.com/video.

The "Williams Wall," as the defensive players are nicknamed, were/are in court fighting the NFL's attempt to suspend them for taking a weight loss supplement that can be used to mask steroid useage.

Sometimes the players arrive at or leave the courthouse, yakking on their cell phones. A source had asked me to see if the Williamses would tell me to whom they were talking. Now, any knucklehead knows that these guys are on their phones so they can avoid acknowledging the presence of news crews. It's a cute ploy. Even cuter, I think, would be finding out that Pat and Kevin were talking to each other during these photo ops.

But my questions would have to wait.

Covering news subjects, especially at a courthouse, involves a lot of hurry-up-and-wait. Some of us make the most of this time.

Since there was time, I also asked Albert a question readers periodically ask me: Is he related to sportscaster Marv Albert? There is a faint resemblance.

"No comment," said Albert.

In the background of the video you'll hear Strib courts reporter Rochelle Olson carrying on: "Oh my god. You're making my day. I think it's funny because everybody teases him about it."

When told that Albert had issued a no comment, Olson remarked, "You're not related to him," in a tone suggesting that she knew that for sure.

Mark may want us to think he is related to Marv, whose real surname is Aufrichtig, according to Wikipedia.

Many of us, including reporters who had been in the courtroom at the time the judge had called for a recess, started to suspect subterfuge regarding the whereabouts of the Williamses.

There are two possible ways out, and both dump you into the service level lobby.

Cameras were positioned to capture the Williamses depart via the court tower elevators. But because we're not stupid, it occurred to many of us that the Williamses might try to exit via the elevators on the county government tower side.

We had been twiddling our thumbs a while by the time attorney Peter Ginsberg finally arrived via the court side elevators. Ginsberg prattled on with comments. Reporters and photographers were faced in the logical direction from which we might have expected to eventually see Williamses. Unless there was trickeration afoot.

At about 2 minutes and 45 seconds into my video, the trickeration is revealed, and the Williamses are not even using their cell phones for cover.

But Pat, whose listed weight has not changed since the 2007 media guide, was no match for some of us, who ran downstairs. I took the easy route, stepping in front of Pat before he got on the escalator and riding down backwards. An interview was attempted, with my questions about the cell phones.

"Ain't none of ya'll's business," said Pat. He ignored me by greeting fans. "[Not about to] tell ya'll nothing," added Williams.

I reminded Pat that he was a much nicer guy than that comment would suggest. "I am nice," he said. His excuse: "Because media always saying what they want to say."

Outside, the Williams Wall went to get in their getaway vehicle, which had not arrived. Judicious use of a cell phone might have prevented this snafu. They were stuck being photo subjects for media and fans on the street, who noticed the commotion.

At 3 minues and 32 seconds there's a good view of that tattoo of the state of Louisiana on Pat's neck, near his right ear.