George Kimball/America at Large: The biggest surprise of Super Bowl XXXIX last February wasn't that New England beat Philadelphia 24-21, but that Terrell Owens was on the field at all. The enigmatic Eagles receiver, who had broken his right leg with two games left in the regular season, not only made good on his threat to play in the championship game, but made a meaningful contribution, catching nine passes for 122 yards.
Scribes covering the game in Jacksonville scoured their memories for a comparably miraculous performance, but, as it turned out, Owens already had one in mind. Evidently he felt a bit like a guy who'd rolled back a stone from his tomb and taken the field with his hands and feet still bleeding from where they (meaning us) had nailed him to a cross.
The TO-as-JC allusion didn't actually come to light for several months, until Owens threatened to boycott the Eagles' training camp unless the team renegotiated the $49 million, seven-year contract he'd signed a year earlier.
"After I worked so hard rehabilitating from a broken leg to get back to the Super Bowl to help our team try to win?" Owens asked at the time. "At the end of the day, I don't have to worry about what people think of me, whether they hate me or not. People hated on Jesus. They threw stones at him and tried to kill him, so how can I complain or worry about what people think?"
Owens, however unhappily, did eventually report for duty, setting in motion a five-month, eruption-filled soap opera that culminated in the team suspending him for the season last weekend. In the interim, the undeniably talented player had repeatedly sniped at the organisation, its coaching staff, and, with alarming frequency, his team-mates.
He had launched a verbal assault on Donovan McNabb (an episode the quarterback's father likened to "black-on-black crime"), claiming he'd prefer to be working with a more accomplished signal-caller, like Green Bay's Brett Favre (whose Packers, last time we looked, were languishing in the cellar with an NFL-worst 1-7 record), and even claimed centre stage to berate the Eagles' hierarchy for its failure to properly celebrate his 100th career touchdown reception against the Chargers on October 23rd.
The final straw may have come last week when he engaged in a locker-room fist-fight with Hugh Douglas, a former team-mate and current Eagles executive. Word of the punch-up didn't emerge until after the weekend, when Douglas confirmed it on his Philadelphia radio show. In a visit to the trainers' room, Douglas had apparently struck a raw nerve by accusing TO of malingering ("Some people in this room aren't really hurt"), and while we've received no report on the outcome, our money would be on Douglas in a first-round TKO.
While those details remain sketchy, there can be little doubt that Owens's continued presence had become a festering cancer.
Following his suspension, the Eagles dropped a 17-10 decision to the Washington Redskins on Sunday night, leaving the defending NFC champions 4-4 at the season's midpoint, and while they will undoubtedly miss his gifts on the field, several team-mates undertook the relatively extraordinary stance of backing management in the dispute.
McNabb allowed that the Eagles might be better off without Owens after all, while safety Brian Dawkins described TO's continued presence as "a drain" on the team's focus and energy.
On Tuesday, Owens and his agent, Drew Rosenhaus, responded by convening a bizarre press conference on the lawn of the player's New Jersey home, at which the receiver delivered a half-hearted apology and his emissary, describing the suspension as "unfair", revealed steps to send the matter to grievance.
"There are players in the NFL that are arrested who violate the programme when it comes to drugs and substance abuse, and they are not punished as severely as him," said Rosenhaus.
The issue at this point hasn't become whether the Eagles will take Owens back - they can't, not if coach Andy Reid is to retain the respect of his squad - but one of how much, if any, money the team will have to pony up before it boots him out the door.
The Eagles' position is that Owens's incessant public carping violated the terms of his contract, and that they not only can dock him four game checks - read $1 million - before sending him on his way, but might be entitled to recoup as much as $1.8 million from the signing bonus they paid him in 2004.
Owens will claim unfair dismissal, attempt to be paid for the balance of the season, and then try to cut a deal with another NFL team next year.
The TO issue, which has dominated the nation's sports pages and airwaves over the past week, is merely the latest (and noisiest) episode involving a high-profile, high-ego, malcontent wide receiver. Last year, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, their patience having been exhausted by Keyshawn Johnson's antics, simply declared him inactive for the last six games of the season and swallowed their losses by continuing to pay the balance due on his $7 million contract. Keyshawn, chastened and presumably somewhat rehabilitated, has landed on his feet with the Dallas Cowboys this season.
The Minnesota Vikings cut their losses by trading the talented but ever-troublesome Randy Moss to Oakland after the season.
Ironically, Owens's previous employer, the San Francisco 49ers, thought they had accomplished a similarly beneficial swap when they dealt the free-agent-to-be to the Baltimore Ravens two years ago.
Owens refused to report, went to arbitration, and got himself declared a free agent, which is how he came to be an Eagle in the first place.
A small but vocal segment of the media seems willing to buy into Rosenhaus's description of his client as a "victim", but these apologists seem almost without exception to be the same people who would tell you that Mike Tyson and OJ Simpson were victims too.
Otherwise, as l'affaire TO has unfolded, it has been instructive to watch the media's belated acknowledgement of its part in helping to create the monster.
For years the same networks now wringing their hands over what promises to be a sad denouement were perfectly willing to abet the process by televising his infantile touchdown celebrations and airing his frequent complaints as if they were presidential addresses. They can hardly be surprised that it has come to this.
