Is Terrell Owens a bad teammate? Without a doubt.

Does he alienate his quarterbacks? He's world renowned for it.

Does he drop too many passes? No question.

But is the mercurial wide receiver a Hall of Famer? You bet he is.

The debate of T.O.'s Hall credentials went back-and-forth on, your friend and mine Bob Glauber's Twitter account a few days ago, and yours truly stands firmly on the side of Owens donning a yellow jacket in Canton five years after he retires.

In his 14-year career, he's amassed 1,006 receptions (sixth all-time), 14,961 receiving yards (third) and 144 receiving touchdowns (behind only Jerry Rice, who has 197, and Randy Moss, who has 148).

He's made six Pro Bowls, has eight seasons with 10+ TDs and nine 1,000-yard receiving years, more than current Hall of Famer Michael Irvin (7), and Cris Carter (8), who hasn't been voted in the past two years but is likely candidate for enshrinement.

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All this for Owens, who was the 89th overall pick in the 1996 draft out of tiny Tennessee-Chattanooga.

But you know about all the numbers. You don't discount that they are Hall worthy.

You discount the fact that Owens has never won a Super Bowl and that he hasn't even won a playoff game since he left the 49ers. And that Jeff Garcia, Donovan McNabb and Tony Romo all hated him to various degrees before he was booted out of town. And that he's essentially been given the "don't let the door hit you in the [butt] on the way out" treatment by four different teams.

And we all know about T.O.'s antics. Crying after the playoff loss in Dallas, the Sharpie in his sock, doing situps in his parking lot, his alleged overdose — it's a nonstop circus.

But so is Ochocinco. Yet he's trendy. He changed his name, coined the phrase "kiss da baby," will appear on the upcoming season of Dancing with the Stars, and has one of the most read Twitter pages out there.

T.O. spent the last year freezing in the obscurity of Buffalo. His antics just aren't cute anymore, they're tired and old — just like his play is becoming.

But in due time, people will realize how great he was. They'll realize Garcia fell off the map after five years throwing to Owens, and that he came back from a broken leg in less than two months to put up nine catches for 122 yards in the Super Bowl (still think he's not a team player?).

They'll see that every team he's played for (sans Buffalo) has been a winner and that maybe, just maybe, he's the most physical gifted receiver outside of Jerry Rice to ever play the game.