It was 10 years ago this month Irving Fryar and Hart Lee Dykes, both of whom had been first-round draft choices of the New England Patriots, made a late-night visit to the Club Shalimar, a now defunct Rhode Island nightclub with a deservedly unsavoury reputation.

Whether the football players came looking for trouble or, as they themselves would later claim, were met with unprovoked hostility, remains unlearned a decade later. What we do know is that shortly after their arrival they had been asked to leave. Although the bouncer on duty was larger than either of the wide receivers, he was somewhat hampered by a broken leg and had his right leg encased in a plaster cast.

Determined not to let his affliction be a handicap, the bouncer gave Dykes a clout with his crutch and knocked him stone cold on the bar's front step. Fryar thereupon raced to his car and retrieved the unlicensed .38-calibre pistol from his glove compartment. While he did not fire it, he was taking aim as he crouched behind the vehicle when the constabulary arrived and arrested him.

Fryar was hauled away to the sneezer and Dykes to the hospital. The latter, in fact, sustained injuries sufficiently serious that the episode effectively ended his NFL career. Fryar went on to find religion and became an ordained minister, but it didn't help him much that night. I recall writing at the time that only a pair of Patriots players could bring a gun to a crutch fight and still lose.

Just as it remains one of life's unsolved mysteries that boxers should require bodyguards, the fascination with firearms harboured by NFL players appears to know no bounds. Although they are bigger and stronger than their counterparts in almost any team sport around the world, football players as a group spend more time trafficking with arms dealers than do the armies of some nations.

As the season approaches each autumn, the public relations officers of the 31 NFL teams routinely ask their players to submit to a questionnaire, listing their hobbies and off-field interests, presumably in order to humanise them in the media guide for the upcoming season.

A surprising number list "hunting" among their favourite pursuits, although from my limited knowledge of their arsenals, many of the players in question appear to believe that bear, elk, and mountain lions must travel in armoured personnel carriers. I mean, what can you actually hunt with a bazooka? All of which brings us to this week's subject, the unfortunate saga of Damien Robinson.

Robinson is a 27-year-old safety for the New York Jets, having spent his first half dozen NFL seasons with the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. When Herman Edwards, the Bucs' longtime secondary coach, became the head coach of the Jets this year, he made it one of his first orders of business to sign Robinson as a free agent.

As most of the world knows by now, the events of September 11th have led to enhanced, and sometimes draconian, security measures across the US. Patrons entering a stadium for a Sunday afternoon football match have been advised to arrive two hours before kick-off to allow searches of their vehicles entering the car-park and their person as they pass through the stadium gates. These precautions are in effect throughout America, but particularly so at sporting events in the New York area.

Why Robinson might have supposed that a player would be exempt from the same scrutiny is somewhat baffling, but when he arrived at the Giants Stadium players' parking lot for last Sunday's game against the Miami Dolphins, he was in the process of exchanging pleasantries with the gendarmes when the bomb-sniffing dog that one of the guards had on a leash began to bark excitedly, displaying significant interest in the contents of Robinson's sport utility vehicle.

The guards asked the player to pull over so they might inspect his truck. When they did, the search discovered that Robinson had in the boot a Bushmaster .223 assault rifle, three high-capacity 30-round magazines, and two boxes of ammunition containing another 200 rounds.

While the cops were trying to figure out whether Robinson planned to use his machinegun against the Dolphins or was merely preparing himself in case the Taliban showed up at half-time, they reminded him that possession of both the assault rifle and the ammunition were illegal under New Jersey law.

Robinson was booked on the spot (the authorities maintain a temporary jail-cum-courtroom at the stadium on game days) but released on $7,500 bail and allowed to play the game, in which he recorded six tackles and deflected a Miami pass in the Jets' win. He was then arraigned Sunday night and freed on his own recognisance, but potentially faces five years in prison if the Passaic County prosecutor elects to pursue the case and he is convicted.

In addition to running afoul of New Jersey's laws, Robinson also apparently violated NFL directives by attempting to smuggle his arsenal into the stadium parking lot. "We have a policy on guns and weapons that says you must not possess guns or any other kind of weapons while travelling on league-related business or on the premises of a stadium or a club facility," said an NFL spokesman. "Violation of the policy is grounds for punishment, including suspension."

The Jets themselves appear to have headed off discipline by the league. On Tuesday they announced they had fined Robinson a week's pay, which under the terms of his $10 million, five-year contract, comes out to roughly $30,000.

Robinson's explanation was that he'd gone to the shooting range and forgot he had the weapon in his truck.

"It was very innocent in that respect - he genuinely forgot he'd left it there," said Robinson's agent Jimmy Gould. "It's an innocent mistake." In case you were wondering whether the ongoing proceedings might affect Robinson's availability for Sunday's game against the unbeaten Rams, rest easy. You can bet your booty he's going to play.

"It's a mistake he made and obviously he will pay the price for it," said Edwards, the Jets' coach. "Knowing Damien - I have been around him for some time - this is really uncharacteristic of him. I know what kind of person he is, a good man, I don't think he had any intent about this. He forgot."