Friday column: Excuses pave way for bad behavior

The human need to engage in denial or justification of wrongdoing is deep-seated.

How deep?

The famed theologian Augustine of Hippo would say it’s a part of the human condition — original sin. In other words, such activity comes with the territory — the territory being mankind — and is about as surprising as, say, a powerful politician getting his church parking lot paved using taxpayer funds.

In the case of disgraced cyclist Floyd Landis, his first response to being busted for using performance-enhancing drugs was to lie. Now, years and millions of dollars later — some of those dollars having come from credulous supporters, his constituents, if you will — Landis is admitting his cheating, though trying to partially justify it with an “everybody-was-doing-it” defense.

In the case of Michigan football coach Rich Rodriguez, his first response to being accused of violating NCAA practice rules was to vehemently deny doing anything wrong, even getting quite emotional over the suggestion that he and his coaches might care more about winning games than getting his players to class on time.

Now, after the university’s own investigation has shown the practice accusations to be true, Rodriguez is trying to justify the behavior. Mistakes were made, he concedes, while quick to add that they weren’t really his fault. He simply didn’t know the university expected its coaches to submit forms designed to track athletes’ activities until he already had been on the job 18 months. Somebody, he said, should have told him.

Actually, Rodriguez didn’t say somebody should have told him; his lawyer said it. Which is definitely the way you want to go. Your mouthpiece being evasive is always superior to you being evasive.

Let’s say you own an asphalt company being investigated in a sheriff’s probe of the Public Works Department — bitumen being the theme of the day. Better than you declining to answer questions from The New Mexican is your lawyer declining for you, and saying something like, “We are trying to respect the investigation and the process.”

To a cynical journalist, that might seem like code for, “We’re still working out our story.” But it still sounds better coming from someone who’s passed the bar.

Of course, there’s only so much an attorney can do.

When a Georgia district attorney declined to prosecute Ben Roethlisberger on sexual assault charges, his lawyer made it sound as if his client was on his way to joining Augustine as a Saint — no, not the NFL kind.

All of which didn’t keep the NFL from suspending the former toast of Pittsburgh for six games — after which Roethlisberger promised to amend his behavior, saying “I intend to make my family, friends and Steeler nation proud on all fronts.”

Which is nice and all, except as we know, the road to the Warm Place is paved with good intentions.

Or is it asphalt millings?

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

Yeah, this is a good use of a coach's time

So, you're Arizona Cardinals head coach Ken Whisenhunt.

You're hard at work, trying to put together a roster, draw up a few new plays, figure out how in hell "coach up" Matt Leinart to replace the retired star quarterback Kurt Warner.

Then you're called away from your work to explain to Darnell Dockett, your 28-year-old defensive tackle, presumably an adult, why taking a shower for all the world to see over the Internet isn’t a good idea — even if you win a $1,000 bet by doing so.

“Obviously, we weren't real excited when (the online video) came out," Whisenhunt said. "We don't discourage our players from having interaction with our fans. In fact, we think it's important. But there's also a right way and wrong way to do it.”

Dockett seemed to get Whisenhunt's message.

"It's a learning experience for me," Dockett said. "I've never been in trouble, I've never been in the news or on gossip sites or things like that. I apologize to all the kids, everybody in the community who looks up to me. I apologize to my team. I walked by each player individually and apologized. I got to do better things than that.”

One would hope so.

As for Whisenhunt — and every other coach in the NFL — may we recommend a course in psychology, child psychology.

Ah, nothing like role models

There appears to be no shortage of athletes in their 20s who act as though they were in their teens — early teens.

But there also seems to be no shortage of parents of athletes, people in their 50s, who also are a long way from growing up.

Take Carrie Mae Stoudemire, for instance.

Stoudemire, 54-year-old mother of Phoenix Suns star Amar'e Stoudemire, this week was arrested by Scottsdale, Ariz., police for failing to have an ignition interlock device on her vehicle.

Carrie Mae apparently has trouble with alcohol — and other things, having been jailed multiple times on charges including drug possession and prostitution.

In the midst of trying to figure out how to get the Suns past the L.A. Lakers in the Western Conference finals, her son was called to the scene of her latest arrest, where her mother began repeatedly calling out his name. Police had to ask Amar’e to leave because his presence was causing his mother to “act out.”

But at least Carrie Mae hasn’t killed anyone that we know of. Can’t say the same for Willie L. Buie, stepfather of Boston Celtics guard Marquis Daniels.

Buie, 55, made the news the other day by getting Tasered at the Celtics-Orlando Magic playoff game. He was charged with resisting arrest with violence, which sounds pretty serious until you compare it with a previous charge Buie faced — second-degree murder.

Yes, he was found guilty. Yes, he spent a long stretch in prison. Yes, some athletes have a great deal more to deal with than we know.

Friday column: Whatever Landis is selling, I’m not buying

So.

Suddenly, Floyd Landis is all about the truth.

After lying for years about his use of performance-enhancing drugs, he wants to come clean and take the fall — whatever fall is left for him — and he wants to take a few others down with him.

Nice.

We knew Landis was a piece of … work … yes, that’s what I was going to say, a piece of … work … when he apparently allowed his business manager to threaten Greg LeMond with public exposure that LeMond had been sexually abused as a child — a piece of information LeMond had confided to Landis.

This, in an attempt to intimidate LeMond into not testifying against Landis at a USADA doping hearing.

Now we’re to believe Mr. Sudden Rectitude when he alleges that Lance Armstrong, Armstrong’s longtime coach Johan Brunyneel, and American riders Levi Leipheimer and Dave Zabriskie were involved in the doping.

In the case of Armstrong, there’s been so much smoke about his possible drug use, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if fire is there as well. Nonetheless, I wouldn’t believe Landis if he told me wheels were round.

To me, Landis’ latest version of reality adds nothing to the case against Armstrong.

Nothing.

* * *

When Hanley Ramirez, 26-year-old shortstop for the Florida Marlins, nonchalantly jogged after a groundball he’d booted into left field — allowing two runners to score — manager Fredi Gonzalez removed him from the game.

Ramirez responded by sulking, refusing to apologize, and taking verbal shots at his teammates and his manager.

So Gonzalez essentially grounded his petulant star, putting his multimillion-dollar fanny on the bench the next game and indicating it might stay there until an attitude adjustment was made. Finally, Ramirez did apologize — to Gonzalez and to each of his teammates, one at a time — and was returned to the lineup.

If “grounding” sounds like a discipline more suitably meted out by a dad or mom than a major league manager, well, that’s true but …

“I think we’re all parents here,” Gonzalez said Wednesday after Ramirez’s apology. “Sometimes our children will say something that hurts, but it’s no big deal, we still love them.”

Now, coaches and managers at the professional and collegiate level shouldn’t have to be fill-in parents, but it seems they’re put in that position more and more. In this situation, Gonzalez did the right thing, taught the right lesson — something Ramirez could benefit from for years to come.

Perhaps Gonzalez taught a few of his managerial peers a lesson, too. That lesson? Sometimes “Junior” has to be dealt with — even when Junior is an All-Star and under contract for $70 million.

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

She's largely correct

Sally Jenkins had a fine piece in the Washington Post on May 8 discussing the likes of George Huguely, Ben Roethlisberger and Lawrence Taylor, and asking, "Is there something in our sports culture that condones these assaults?"

Toward the end of the column, Jenkins writes, "What has happened to kindness, to the cordial pleasures of friendship between men and women in the sports world? Above all, what has happened to sexuality? When did the most sublime human exchange become more about power and status than romance? When did it become so pornographic and transactional, so implacably cold?"

Then she adds, "The truth is, women can't do anything about this problem. Men are the only ones who can change it ..."

Now, she largely right. But not completely. In some of these situations — some of them — women can do something about it — they can not throw themselves at these jerk jocks.

Now, hear me: When they do, that doesn't give a Roethlisberger, say, the right to act the way he acted in that Milledgeville, Ga., bar, but it does add to a Roethlisberger's already-overlarge sense of entitlement.

When rich, famous male athletes come together with young women and alcohol, this is not an unusual scenario.

Jenkins' column:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/05/07/AR2010050704895.html

Hey, lackey work is hard to find

Ed Joyner's not giving up his night job without a fight. No, sirree.

The Pennsylvania state trooper, barred from working as a bodyguard-gopher for the Mr. Ben Roethlisberger, esquire, wants his bosses to allow him to resume his illustrious part-time employment.

I guess the thrill of standing guard outside a dingy bathroom while a liquored-up quarterback tries to bop a liquored-up coed is difficult to duplicate.

Friday column: Well, yes, Lawrence, we think we do

In his head-on mug shot from a November arrest in Miami for allegedly leaving the scene of an accident, Lawrence Taylor has a hint of a smile. In his profile shot, his head is up, his chin is thrust forward. The photo fairly screams, Don’t you know who I am?

The word “know” was prominent at his arraignment hearing following the Hall of Fame football player’s most recent arrest — that on charges of solicitation and rape of an underage girl.

When Taylor’s demonstrative lawyer — think Saul Goodman from Breaking Bad — protested the judge’s granting the victim, identified only as “CF,” an order of protection against Taylor, the mouthpiece claimed, “The complainant is a stranger to my client. … Mr. Taylor doesn’t know this person’s name, doesn’t know anything … about her … He doesn’t know who CF is.”

Well, if the police are to be believed, Taylor does know CF — in the biblical sense. But in another sense, Taylor’s legal beagle is correct: His client didn’t know CF — not as a person, not as a fellow human being — and didn’t have the slightest interest in doing so.

Taylor didn’t care to find out that CF was a 16-year-old runaway forced into tricking by a manslaughter parolee who both drugged her and beat her before sending her to pleasure the 51-year-old former linebacker. If police are correct, Taylor didn’t care that this girl showed up at his room at the Suffern, N.Y., Holiday Inn with a black eye and other facial injuries.

No, Taylor wasn’t that interested in the girl who entered his room. Why would he be? By his own admission, he’s been with prostitutes before — sometimes six a day. Ah, but that was back in his drug-using, reporter-choking, deadbeat-dad days. Before his “rebirth,” a rebirth that led to his becoming a spokesman for NutriSystem Inc. and being featured on Dancing with the Stars.

Not only was his image rehabilitated, he was, too — or so went the spin. Last week, referring to his client’s troubled past, agent Mark Lepselter said, “That was the old Lawrence Taylor. This is the new Lawrence Taylor.”

Well, if the defense story is to be believed, the new Lawrence Taylor doesn’t have intercourse with prostitutes — he just pays them $300 to be there while he does the uh … trick … himself. Whatever the truth, Taylor already has cost himself the NutriSystem gig, and I doubt he’ll be featured on a family-hour TV show anytime soon.

Then there’s the little matter that a conviction could cost Taylor four years of his freedom. “I’ve never seen him this distraught,” Lepselter said, and I believe him.

Taylor’s head-on booking mug from this latest arrest is nothing like the ones taken in Florida. There is no smile, no chin thrust, no sense of the “don’t you know who I am?” attitude.

Perhaps that’s because he fears that with this latest fall, we do, indeed.

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

Let's hear it for Mom

You gotta love Amy Ziegler, mother of Steve Consalvi, the 17-year-old who jumped onto the field at a recent Phillies game in Philadelphia and got Tasered for his trouble.

Why?

While others dithered over whether the use of the Taser was necessary and proper, Ziegler concentrated on the event that led to the zapping — namely, her son’s actions.

Quoth the mother: "It was stupid. It was just absolutely stupid."

Thank you, Ms. Ziegler.

"Look into my eyes ... deep into my eyes ..."

So.

The Cincinnati Bengals are close to signing Adam “Pacman” Jones. And they aren’t worried about his legal baggage (six arrests and involvement in a dozen incidents requiring police intervention since 2005) nor his professional baggage (numerous disruptions and a 17-month NFL suspension).

Why?

Because, Bengals defensive coordinator Mike Zimmer said, “He looked me in the eye and shook my hand and said, 'Coach, I just want to play.' He seems very humble. He seems to understand."

Wow. He looked him in the eye and seemed very humble. Of course, George W. Bush looked Vladimir Putin in the eye and declared he had a good soul.

As a character check, gazing into someone’s eyes and listening to what they tell you perhaps isn’t quite as effective as noticing what they’ve done.

As I expect the Bengals will find out ...

Rex's credo

So.

New York Jets head coach Rex Ryan says he believes Santonio Holmes’ latest story. “Totally” believes it, in fact.

Holmes recently was met by police at the gate after reportedly failing to obey an order to turn off his iPod on a flight from Newark to Pittsburgh.

According to Ryan, Holmes’ story was a tale of simple miscommunication, and he had, in fact, complied perfectly.

This is the same Holmes whose repeatedly boorish and selfish off-field behavior led his former employers, the Pittsburgh Steelers, to dump him for a fifth-round draft pick despite the fact he was their top receiver.

Yet Ryan says when Holmes peddled his latest version of reality, “I totally believed him.”

Now Ryan may be many things, but he’s not stupid. So pardon me if I suggest that Ryan doesn’t actually believe in Holmes’ veracity. What he believes in is Holmes’ ability to separate from defensive backs and catch the ball. What he believes in is Holmes Super Bowl-MVP-caliber talent.

Nothing more.

We’re not particularly optimistic

So.

According to Rick Pitino, his former college coach, Antoine Walker is “eyeing an NBA comeback.”

Well, as Walker has agreed to pay a trio of Vegas casinos $900,000 to settle three bad-check charges, it’s clear he needs the money. So he’s got motivation.

On the other hand, Walker was a little chubby even in his All-Star days and was never known for his work ethic. Now at age 33, two years after retirement, he’s going whip himself into NBA shape? This is someone who made some $110 million from NBA contracts alone and now is in debt. So I’m guessing “self-discipline” isn’t his middle name.

Here’s a prediction: The “comeback” goes nowhere.

Friday column: Is jolt of reality a bad thing?

Hey, all you fans who think the game is about you. This week, a Philly police officer offered a reminder that it’s not.

The reminder — 50,000 volts worth — began a debate not on what should be done to keep the fannies of narcissistic ticket holders in their seats but on whether the Tasering of a 17-year-old was excessive force.

Among those answering in the affirmative was Pennsylvania Gov. Ed Rendell, who called the action “a big mistake.”

“There’s no need to use Tasers on fans who run on the field,” Rendell said. “We should just have enough personnel out there to surround them, take them off the field and put them in jail.”

Backing Rendell was Mary Catherine Roper, an attorney for the American Civil Liberties Union in Philadelphia, who said she didn’t understand why the officer had to use a Taser.

“How long can he really run around out there?” Roper said of the fan. “In this situation, he’s not dangerous, he’s not getting away.”

Well, in this situation, as it turns out, Roper would be right. Steve Consalvi wasn’t a danger, as it turns out. Did the officer know that for a fact when he launched his dart at the fleeing teen? He did not.

Same goes for the security at the Monica Seles-Magdalena Maleeva tennis match in 1993, which didn’t know whether Günter Parche was dangerous when he ran onto the court in Hamburg, Germany.

Same goes for the security at the Kansas City-Chicago baseball game at Comiskey Park in 2002, which didn’t know whether William Ligue Jr. and his 15-year-old son were dangerous when they jumped onto the field and moved toward Royals first base coach Tom Gamboa.

Turns out they were.

Gamboa was beaten up.

Seles was stabbed with a 9-inch blade. She could have been killed; as it was, her life and career were forever altered.

The people most affected when someone decides he needs “a once in a lifetime experience,” in Consalvi’s words, are the players, and if comments I’ve seen the last few days are any indication, athletes and coaches are not particularly sympathetic to Rendell and Roper’s view.

Said Seattle Mariners pitcher Cliff Lee: “You never know what their intentions are. They have probably been drinking, or maybe have taken drugs. You don’t know what they are going to do.”

Said Cardinals manager Tony La Russa: “If somebody comes up there and does some damage, they’re going to be second-guessing not doing anything. I just think it’s acceptable, because it’s a good deterrent.”

The Phillies have decided to handle such cases sans cop, unless one is suddenly deemed necessary. Of course, by the time one is deemed necessary, it might be too late. As long as proper guidelines are established and followed, why not keep the cop and his Taser in place?

Whose protection are we most concerned with here — the people who don’t belong on the field or the people who do?

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.