Is The NFL Really The Highest-Paid Crime Ring In America?
By Christopher Weir
Pros And Cons: The Criminals Who Play In The NFL, Jeff
Benedict and Don Yaeger (Warner Books). Cloth, $24.
IN THEIR MAD dash to criminalize the National Football
League, the authors of Pros and Cons fail to make one crucial
distinction: the difference between arrests and convictions. Consequently,
their thesis is like January without the Super Bowl. It just doesn't
compute.
"We are not talking about just a few bad apples here,"
Benedict and Yaeger insist in their Authors' Note. "Our research
shows that 21 percent--one out of every five--of the players in
the NFL have been charged with a serious crime."
Shocking, eh? It's helpful here to skip the rest of the book
and go straight to Appendix I, in which we're treated to a "partial
list of the players who were discovered by the authors to have
a criminal history." Here, among others, we find the Buccaneers'
Warren Sapp, who was charged with possession of marijuana. The
charge was dropped. Then there's the Seahawks' Bennie Blades,
who was arrested on a DUI charge. He was acquitted.
Pardon this rather impertinent question: Don't you have to be
convicted of something before you have a criminal history?
Never mind. The book's questionable 21-percent figure is already
ricocheting across sports-talk radio, just another tawdry "fact"
forged by repetition (and there's nothing more repetitive than
sports-talk radio). Now the rumor is that 60 Minutes is
following up with its own "investigation." As if Mike
Wallace didn't already have enough excuses to work himself into
a self-righteous lather.
It's too bad, really, that Benedict and Yaeger choose to employ
rather elastic definitions of both "serious" and "crime"
in their attempt to scandalize the NFL, because they've otherwise
penned some compelling case studies of truly dysfunctional athletes
and their hordes of enablers. If there's any scandal here, it's
not in the sheer number of football players with allegedly criminal
histories, but in the handful of repeat offenders who are seemingly
immune to consequences.
For example, there's running back Bam Morris, who pled guilty
to possession of five pounds of marijuana in Texas, logged no
jail time and received a meager four-day suspension from the NFL
for violating the league's substance abuse policy. Morris subsequently
failed a league-administered drug test, but the NFL refused to
share the results with the Texas Probation Department and simply
gave him another four-game suspension. Finally, after failing
to comply with the "simple formalities of his probation,"
such as keeping appointments with his probation officer, Morris
was sentenced to 120 days in jail last January. He now plays for
the Kansas City Chiefs, a wreck of a team that, not surprisingly,
is suffering from severe chemistry problems.
More disturbing, however, are the serial goons--from coaches
to players to draft picks--whose repeated abuse of women goes
unaddressed by the same league that moralizes against drugs, gambling
and firearms. "As of this writing," Benedict and Yaeger
note, "the collective bargaining agreement between the owners
and the players contained no prohibitions against or punishments
for domestic violence. Why? The crime is not seen as a direct
threat to the integrity of the game."
The authors are at their best when revealing such hypocrisies
and exposing the NFL's pathological reluctance to take meaningful
action against its most troublesome players. But they are at their
worst when they lapse into hysterics to demonstrate their outrage.
At one point, noting that the Rams allowed Darryl Henley play
while he was under indictment for cocaine trafficking, the authors
mock the team for "citing the familiar 'innocent until proven
guilty' theme."
It's not a theme, guys. It's the foundation of the American criminal
justice system. And, among other things, it's what allowed the
Cowboys' Michael Irvin to make an honest living last year when
he was falsely accused of a sexual crime by an affirmed gold-digger
(an episode that the authors conveniently ignore).
So should we really be alarmed about an epidemic of outlaw football
players terrorizing our streets? Quite frankly, if this reviewer
is worried about 21 percent of any group, it's 21 percent of the
folks he saw at the mall over the holidays. A more positive way
of looking at it: If at least four-fifths of a given group--especially
if many of its members come from demographically challenged backgrounds,
as is the case in the NFL--consists of good, sober, law-abiding
citizens, then maybe things aren't so dire after all.
Basically, it boils down to another distinction the authors fail
to make: It's one thing to address problems and quite another
to create them.
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