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Football was all Clarett had
By Scoop Jackson
Page 2
How do you recognize a blessing in disguise?
Does it happen when you are at the Ohio State University, scoring the winning touchdown in the national championship game your freshman year? Or does it occur when they ended your college career, when Jim Brown shows up in your life to play counselor and adviser in your fight to get into the NFL two years before you are allowed to? Or does it occur when a groin pull pulls you out of contention for a roster spot on an NFL team and, for the first time in your life, you've been cut from a game you'd decided was going to be your life?
<TABLE id=inlinetable cellSpacing=1 cellPadding=3 width=200 align=right border=0><TBODY><TR><TH style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #000000"><CENTER>The Show</CENTER></TH><TR style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ececec" vAlign=top><TD width=194>• Scoop Jackson will be chatting with fans at 3 p.m. ET. </TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
Or does it occur at 3 a.m. on I-70 in Columbus, Ohio, after an illegal U-turn turned into a chase, after the police spike and blow out your tires, after you resist being arrested, after they find three loaded handguns, one loaded AK-47 and a half-empty bottle of Grey Goose in the front seat and you in a bulletproof vest?
When your life goes from the sky to the sewer in four years, how can you tell where the blessing is?
What if in your life, with all of the accolades, promise and acclaim, the best thing that ever happened to you was when those cops pepper-sprayed you and cuffed you and ducked your head into the backseat of their squad car? What if it was all finally over? What if the last thing that happened to you saved your life?
<HR align=left width=150>
"I don't know what happened to him, what got into him. I just know that's not the Maurice Clarett that I knew. And I know the fans know that's not the Maurice Clarett that played football at Ohio State."
Current Steelers WR (and former OSU WR) Santonio Holmes, to ESPN.com's Gene Wojciechowski
The Maurice Clarett who showed up in the Franklin County police station the other night was not the Maurice Clarett who captivated the nation four years ago in the Fiesta Bowl with the promise to make us never know who Reggie Bush was. That Maurice Clarett disappeared the minute he scored his last touchdown, the minute OSU turned its back on him, saying he acted alone in receiving benefits from the university to help the Buckeyes win their first undisputed national title since 1968. <DIV class=inlinephoto>
<DIV class=photocred>Kirby Lee/Wireimage.com</DIV><DIV class=txt style="WIDTH: 275px">Seems like ages ago when we watched Clarett play for OSU.</DIV></DIV>
That Maurice Clarett was never to be seen again.
Instead, the world was introduced to an athlete who had nothing to hold on to, nothing to grasp, nothing to love. An athlete who was living a lie because the game he possibly was born to play was slowly being taken from him. But he didn't know it. Not then. Not as a teenager.
Because the Maurice Clarett who just had his bond raised from $200,000 to $1.1 million to $5 million in two days thought football was going to save him. Thought it would stop him from being the person that lived inside of him. But once the game was removed from his life, once he realized the NFL would exist without him, the truth of his life was exposed to him. To the point where he couldn't even help it, or himself.
Which is why (and how) a young man goes from being a third-round draft pick in April 2005 to getting charged
By Scoop Jackson
Page 2
How do you recognize a blessing in disguise?
Does it happen when you are at the Ohio State University, scoring the winning touchdown in the national championship game your freshman year? Or does it occur when they ended your college career, when Jim Brown shows up in your life to play counselor and adviser in your fight to get into the NFL two years before you are allowed to? Or does it occur when a groin pull pulls you out of contention for a roster spot on an NFL team and, for the first time in your life, you've been cut from a game you'd decided was going to be your life?
<TABLE id=inlinetable cellSpacing=1 cellPadding=3 width=200 align=right border=0><TBODY><TR><TH style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #000000"><CENTER>The Show</CENTER></TH><TR style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ececec" vAlign=top><TD width=194>• Scoop Jackson will be chatting with fans at 3 p.m. ET. </TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
Or does it occur at 3 a.m. on I-70 in Columbus, Ohio, after an illegal U-turn turned into a chase, after the police spike and blow out your tires, after you resist being arrested, after they find three loaded handguns, one loaded AK-47 and a half-empty bottle of Grey Goose in the front seat and you in a bulletproof vest?
When your life goes from the sky to the sewer in four years, how can you tell where the blessing is?
What if in your life, with all of the accolades, promise and acclaim, the best thing that ever happened to you was when those cops pepper-sprayed you and cuffed you and ducked your head into the backseat of their squad car? What if it was all finally over? What if the last thing that happened to you saved your life?
<HR align=left width=150>
"I don't know what happened to him, what got into him. I just know that's not the Maurice Clarett that I knew. And I know the fans know that's not the Maurice Clarett that played football at Ohio State."
Current Steelers WR (and former OSU WR) Santonio Holmes, to ESPN.com's Gene Wojciechowski
The Maurice Clarett who showed up in the Franklin County police station the other night was not the Maurice Clarett who captivated the nation four years ago in the Fiesta Bowl with the promise to make us never know who Reggie Bush was. That Maurice Clarett disappeared the minute he scored his last touchdown, the minute OSU turned its back on him, saying he acted alone in receiving benefits from the university to help the Buckeyes win their first undisputed national title since 1968. <DIV class=inlinephoto>
<DIV class=photocred>Kirby Lee/Wireimage.com</DIV><DIV class=txt style="WIDTH: 275px">Seems like ages ago when we watched Clarett play for OSU.</DIV></DIV>
That Maurice Clarett was never to be seen again.
Instead, the world was introduced to an athlete who had nothing to hold on to, nothing to grasp, nothing to love. An athlete who was living a lie because the game he possibly was born to play was slowly being taken from him. But he didn't know it. Not then. Not as a teenager.
Because the Maurice Clarett who just had his bond raised from $200,000 to $1.1 million to $5 million in two days thought football was going to save him. Thought it would stop him from being the person that lived inside of him. But once the game was removed from his life, once he realized the NFL would exist without him, the truth of his life was exposed to him. To the point where he couldn't even help it, or himself.
Which is why (and how) a young man goes from being a third-round draft pick in April 2005 to getting charged
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