#284ever
August-11th-2006, 09:19 PM
Quote:
No, Mo: Clarett needs help before spiral becomes death spin
Mike Freeman Aug. 10, 2006
By Mike Freeman
CBS SportsLine.com National Columnist
Tell Mike your opinion!
The face in the mug shot looks worn and sorrowful. The face seems to have aged 30 years since the last time I saw it up close, not so long ago. Thick lines dance across the forehead. The eyes are glossy and squinting.
That cannot be the same face. The same one I saw after knocking on the door of Maurice Clarett's Ohio State campus apartment some three years ago, back in the days when Clarett was a budding ruler of college football and not a pathological problem child just one yard away from being 6-feet under.
The face was different then. I was a reporter for the New York Times and had been working for months on a story about claims from a teaching assistant that Clarett had passed classes despite barely attending them. There were also accusations that Clarett had cheated on exams.
After knocking loudly on Clarett's front door, I saw Clarett pull back blinds covering a nearby window. There he was, and that face was startlingly different from the one in this week's mug shot seen around the country.
He smirked at me, knowing who I was, since I had been attempting to contact him for weeks. That face, then, was thin and sharp, creased with jagged lines. The smirk. The cockiness. One look said it all -- screw you, screw your story, screw everybody. I'm Maurice Clarett.
"Can I talk to you?" I asked. No response. The blinds closed, the face disappeared and the sordid legend of Mo Clarett was just beginning.
Clarett has never been someone in possession of large doses of humility no matter how much people who claim to know him protest to the contrary. You see, the greatest crime Clarett might have committed is not packing pistols or allegedly robbing someone or just acting overall like a pugnacious turd.
It is that Clarett believed, back in those Ohio State days and beyond, that his athletic gifts made him immune from the normal rules of society and decency. Clarett never understood that once he could no longer run or score touchdowns, his armor faded and his charm disintegrated.
Once football was done, he was just a guy.
Clarett's mind had been underutilized and his ego nicely gorged. It was a disastrous combination that set him up for an inevitable fall.
In fact, since Ohio State had treated him like his name was President Clarett, he never understood what he actually was, and that is a running back, not a rabbi. Not a senator. Not a lifesaving firefighter. Not the son of a wealthy entrepreneur who owns a third home in Sag Harbor and could buy his son's way out of trouble with a nice donation to the alumni fund.
He was a running back. That's all. That's it.
It is easy to make fun of Clarett now and have a chuckle about one of the most dramatic falls from grace any athlete has ever endured. It is easy to laugh at that sad face in the mug shot. It would be simple to quip that Clarett allegedly packed a militia starter kit in his trunk or how it is no coincidence that Maurice and Miranda begin with the same letter.
Simple, yes, and for sure there are jokes at his expense to be had and one-liners to be harpooned. And for sure he deserves these cracks. Yet there is a serious and frightening aspect to the Clarett cautionary tale: Unless someone, anyone can mount a dramatic intervention in this man's so-called life, he is going to turn into a scarier version of Mike Tyson.
Or worse, Clarett is going to be dead soon.
It seems almost preordained that in the near future we will watch Clarett on television O.J. his way down an interstate, a hundred cop cars in pursuit, and television helicopters swarming above. Or we'll flip on the radio or click CBS SportsLine.com and see the headline: "Clarett, 22, found dead."
Or shot or stabbed or some other such ugliness. Maybe he will hurt someone else, someone who does not possess a bulletproof vest the way he allegedly did.
Anyone who knows him, someone close to him, please help save this man's life. He is a walking headstone.
When it comes to helping him, by the way, where is Ohio State? Where are his friends? Where is childhood buddy LeBron James? Where is the great Jim Brown, who publicly stood by Clarett during Clarett's earlier troubles? Is he friendless at a time when he needs supporters the most? Is he alone?
And please do not look upon Clarett with those condescending eyes. In some ways, we helped create this FrankenBuckeye. Ohio State certainly did. There were obvious clues that Clarett was slowly and steadily becoming an arrogant jerk who was receiving special treatment and extra benefits.
After all, how is it that someone who came from a lower-class background could afford his own off-campus apartment and sport utility vehicle?
Ohio State, with a then-arrogant athletic director and head coach who never seems to see any wrongdoing ever, did not rein in Clarett as his sense of entitlement grew. Why are we then suddenly shocked when he becomes almost irreparably uncontrollable?
We all know someone like Clarett. The government says no hair gel allowed in the carry-on bags because of a heightened alert status and there is always that loudmouth who thinks the rules do not apply to him and argues to bring the gel onboard anyway.
In Denver, even before playing one game, he reportedly demanded that a Broncos team official be fired. He has been accused of drinking hard alcohol before practice. Teammates wondered: Who does this rook think he is?
It would not be shocking if police claims that Clarett resisted arrest and needed to be subdued with pepper spray were accurate. That would be typical him. In his mind the rules apply to the other guy.
So here we are again, shaking our heads over Clarett, wondering what is next for the man who had a dream freshman year culminating in that dramatic Fiesta Bowl, only to see his once promising life turn into an ugly nightmare.
I say The Clarrett Story, Bucking the System
No, Mo: Clarett needs help before spiral becomes death spin
Mike Freeman Aug. 10, 2006
By Mike Freeman
CBS SportsLine.com National Columnist
Tell Mike your opinion!
The face in the mug shot looks worn and sorrowful. The face seems to have aged 30 years since the last time I saw it up close, not so long ago. Thick lines dance across the forehead. The eyes are glossy and squinting.
That cannot be the same face. The same one I saw after knocking on the door of Maurice Clarett's Ohio State campus apartment some three years ago, back in the days when Clarett was a budding ruler of college football and not a pathological problem child just one yard away from being 6-feet under.
The face was different then. I was a reporter for the New York Times and had been working for months on a story about claims from a teaching assistant that Clarett had passed classes despite barely attending them. There were also accusations that Clarett had cheated on exams.
After knocking loudly on Clarett's front door, I saw Clarett pull back blinds covering a nearby window. There he was, and that face was startlingly different from the one in this week's mug shot seen around the country.
He smirked at me, knowing who I was, since I had been attempting to contact him for weeks. That face, then, was thin and sharp, creased with jagged lines. The smirk. The cockiness. One look said it all -- screw you, screw your story, screw everybody. I'm Maurice Clarett.
"Can I talk to you?" I asked. No response. The blinds closed, the face disappeared and the sordid legend of Mo Clarett was just beginning.
Clarett has never been someone in possession of large doses of humility no matter how much people who claim to know him protest to the contrary. You see, the greatest crime Clarett might have committed is not packing pistols or allegedly robbing someone or just acting overall like a pugnacious turd.
It is that Clarett believed, back in those Ohio State days and beyond, that his athletic gifts made him immune from the normal rules of society and decency. Clarett never understood that once he could no longer run or score touchdowns, his armor faded and his charm disintegrated.
Once football was done, he was just a guy.
Clarett's mind had been underutilized and his ego nicely gorged. It was a disastrous combination that set him up for an inevitable fall.
In fact, since Ohio State had treated him like his name was President Clarett, he never understood what he actually was, and that is a running back, not a rabbi. Not a senator. Not a lifesaving firefighter. Not the son of a wealthy entrepreneur who owns a third home in Sag Harbor and could buy his son's way out of trouble with a nice donation to the alumni fund.
He was a running back. That's all. That's it.
It is easy to make fun of Clarett now and have a chuckle about one of the most dramatic falls from grace any athlete has ever endured. It is easy to laugh at that sad face in the mug shot. It would be simple to quip that Clarett allegedly packed a militia starter kit in his trunk or how it is no coincidence that Maurice and Miranda begin with the same letter.
Simple, yes, and for sure there are jokes at his expense to be had and one-liners to be harpooned. And for sure he deserves these cracks. Yet there is a serious and frightening aspect to the Clarett cautionary tale: Unless someone, anyone can mount a dramatic intervention in this man's so-called life, he is going to turn into a scarier version of Mike Tyson.
Or worse, Clarett is going to be dead soon.
It seems almost preordained that in the near future we will watch Clarett on television O.J. his way down an interstate, a hundred cop cars in pursuit, and television helicopters swarming above. Or we'll flip on the radio or click CBS SportsLine.com and see the headline: "Clarett, 22, found dead."
Or shot or stabbed or some other such ugliness. Maybe he will hurt someone else, someone who does not possess a bulletproof vest the way he allegedly did.
Anyone who knows him, someone close to him, please help save this man's life. He is a walking headstone.
When it comes to helping him, by the way, where is Ohio State? Where are his friends? Where is childhood buddy LeBron James? Where is the great Jim Brown, who publicly stood by Clarett during Clarett's earlier troubles? Is he friendless at a time when he needs supporters the most? Is he alone?
And please do not look upon Clarett with those condescending eyes. In some ways, we helped create this FrankenBuckeye. Ohio State certainly did. There were obvious clues that Clarett was slowly and steadily becoming an arrogant jerk who was receiving special treatment and extra benefits.
After all, how is it that someone who came from a lower-class background could afford his own off-campus apartment and sport utility vehicle?
Ohio State, with a then-arrogant athletic director and head coach who never seems to see any wrongdoing ever, did not rein in Clarett as his sense of entitlement grew. Why are we then suddenly shocked when he becomes almost irreparably uncontrollable?
We all know someone like Clarett. The government says no hair gel allowed in the carry-on bags because of a heightened alert status and there is always that loudmouth who thinks the rules do not apply to him and argues to bring the gel onboard anyway.
In Denver, even before playing one game, he reportedly demanded that a Broncos team official be fired. He has been accused of drinking hard alcohol before practice. Teammates wondered: Who does this rook think he is?
It would not be shocking if police claims that Clarett resisted arrest and needed to be subdued with pepper spray were accurate. That would be typical him. In his mind the rules apply to the other guy.
So here we are again, shaking our heads over Clarett, wondering what is next for the man who had a dream freshman year culminating in that dramatic Fiesta Bowl, only to see his once promising life turn into an ugly nightmare.
I say The Clarrett Story, Bucking the System