Say NO to TO

I’m forewarning you. This article might seem hypocritical. You might read this and think I’m using this forum to condone something in the same breath that I am endorsing it. Let me assure you, this cannot be further from the truth. I am here to spread a message, a public service announcement, if you will. I am standing from the highest mountain and preaching to you, faithful followers, about the perils inherent in the overexposure of a sports figure. One particular sports figure.

I’m asking you… no, no, no… I’m pleading with you… Say No to T.O.
He’s addictive like heroin, and equally poisonous. I only wish I had spoken out before ESPN experimented with him. Now, I fear, an intervention is the only means of stopping this downward spiral.

The whole thing started in the late 90’s, when a talented wide-out from Chattanooga joined the last generation of 49er teams to make it the playoffs. He was arrogant, cocky, and self-infatuated, but often, in professional sports, these are qualities that define a premier athlete, more than the other way around. Terrell Owens had great hands and good speed, a body built to shrug off would-be tacklers and out-leap defensive backs. He was the next Michael Irvin, and combined with Jerry Rice, the greatest receiver of all time (even ten years ago), and pro-bowl quarterback Jeff Garcia, the offensive future of the Niners looked good.

But quickly, character quirks evolved into character flaws, and Owens was quickly identified as an athlete who couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Which translated into plenty of soundbites for ESPN, Fox Sports, CNNSI, and the rest of the sports media moguls. It wasn’t long before he was lambasting his teammates, his coaching staff, and the media.

After eight seasons in San Francisco that produced five 1000-yard seasons, the receiver was allowed to walk. His antics in San Francisco established two things. One, that his talent was unquestionable- he was easily one of the top couple receivers in the NFL, quite possibly the best in the entire league. But, perhaps more importantly, two, that his attitude might outweigh his ability as a detriment to any team he plays for. Terrell Owens redefined the me-me-me attitude. There might not be an “I” in “team” but Terrel Owens doesn’t give a shit. Put a camera in his face and he’ll tell you so. Terrell Owens is the world’s most talented three-year old.

The Philadelphia Eagles took a risk in signing Owens after the 2003 season, but a risk that was warranted for a team that had been unsuccessful in three consecutive trips to the NFC Championship Game. Owens said he going to Philadelphia because of the coach and the quarterback, almost foreshadowing the main two people Owens would feud with: Andy Reid and Donovan McNabb.

In 2004 Owens proved to be exactly as advertised: offensive weapon, touchdown machine, missing link, media hound, team distraction. He caught three touchdown passes against New York in the Eagles’ first game and six in the first four games. Going into the second-to-last week of the regular season Owens had caught 75 passes and 14 touchdowns for just under 1,200 yards. The Sportscenter minutes devoted to the superstar were incalculable. Breaking his ankle in the 15th game did nothing but increase his media exposure. While Owens looked like the missing link that would lead Philadelphia to its first Super Bowl appearance since 1980, the team made their successful run without their leading receiver, losing the Super Bowl in his return to the field.

The next year was filled with more drama than house-wife soap operas and more air-time than Michael Jordan in a hot-air balloon. Wherever T.O. went, cameras followed. Whatever T.O. said, microphones heard. Whatever T.O. did, sports writers immortalized it in print. And apparently, we, as sports fans, lapped it up like home-cooked gravy, because nobody ever came out and said that Owens’ overexposure was killing interest in the sport. We swallowed whatever it was ESPN was cooking, which, all too often, contained an obscene helping of Terrell Owens. T.O. on Around the Horn, Jim Rome, PTI. T.O. on Sportscenter, NFL Live, and Cold Pizza.

The point is this: Why are we inundated with the shenanigans of our sports anti-heros? Is it simply because we love to hate? Do we enjoy watching Barry Bonds, pill-popper, homerun god, “I used the cream and the clear, but I thought it was flax-seed oil,” tax-avoiding, media nemesis? Or Floyd Landis, who won our hearts, then broke our hearts, then claimed he’s just a whole lot of man; Mike Tyson, who goes to jail for rape, swallows an ear, and screams out how he’ll eat your children; Kobe Bryant, Mr. 81, who may or may not have done something illegal with a woman in Colorado; Rafael Palmeiro, finger waggling, kiss your Hall-pass goodbye; Randy Moss, and the fake moon, straight cash homey as he slips into a pimped out suv.

Shaquille O’Neal says that if he wasn’t a basketball player he’d be a police officer, and I believe the big fella. Nobody’s ever asked the same question of T.O. If Terrel Owens wasn’t a football player he’d just be a punk.

For me, I’d rather ignore the mass-media deluge and focus my attention on the athletes who play the games with class on the field, and behave with class off it. It begins now. I beseech you all, as a writer to a reader, yes, but also, as one human being to another… Say NO to T.O.