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Owens a victim of image in the NFL

Owens a victim of image in the NFL

Subtle Exclamations
Philip Porras

DALLAS POLICE HAVE OFFICIALLY classified the Terrell Owens “incident” as an accidental overdose, and various members of the Terrell Owens bureaucracy (all of whom have careers on the line) have been insistent upon the fact that the wide receiver merely experienced an allergic reaction, resulting from a mixture of Vicodin and a laundry list of natural supplements.


Most “true” football fans are of course going to buy this explanation and never bother to think twice about what really may have happened with Owens. After all, this is the NFL that we’re talking about, and the reputation of these athletes as being the toughest in the world is something that must be protected at all costs.


Football fans are therefore expected to do their part, and in this case, it means believing whole-heartedly that Owens would not, could not, and did not attempt suicide.


In American society, NFL superstars are gods. Grown 40-year-old men can walk around their houses on Sundays wearing the jerseys of 22-year-old rookies, and the only reason why this is not embarrassing is because those 22-year-old rookies crush people on a weekly basis.


If Owens were to have admitted that he was depressed and that he had indeed attempted suicide, suddenly it doesn’t seem so cool for you to throw on your number 81-replica jersey before sitting down to watch the Cowboys game.


“Hey man, cool jersey! What were T.O.’s stats last season? 35 Vicodin pills and a suicide attempt?”


The NFL, the Dallas Cowboys and Terrell Owens himself all have a lot at stake in restoring the tough, bulletproof, cocky image of T.O.


The man-of-steel perception that football fans have of NFL players is what drives the league, and NFL owners pray each year that nothing is going to put a dent in that aura.


Remember Ricky Williams, the dreadlocked former running back of the New Orleans Saints and Miami Dolphins?


The NFL saw him as a liability as soon as he entered the league, especially since once he was diagnosed with depression and a slew of anxiety disorders.


Everybody bared with him because he piled up yardage, but once he took his marijuana influenced sojourn in Australia, people turned their backs on him faster than he used to score touchdowns.


The NFL is not the place for weirdos.


What people need to realize is that mental illness is something that can strike people from all walks of a life. Anybody, even a superstar athlete like Terrell Owens, can fall victim to a chemical imbalance in the brain.


An NFL player should not have to feel embarrassed and risk being ostracized because they are one of the millions of Americans who experience depression.


The day after T.O.’s hospitalization, he gave a press conference in which he firmly denied the idea that he was depressed and had tried to kill himself.


It was quite obvious to anyone with half a brain that the man seemed visibly shaken up, as his eyes seemed desperate to shed a tear.


Still, he laughed off the suicide accusations and continued to spit out whatever the Dallas Cowboys and the NFL had whispered into his ear.


T.O.’s publicist, Kim Ethridge, supported her client’s announcement that he was not depressed.


In reference to Owens’ $25 million contract with the Dallas Cowboys, Ethridge stated: “Terrell has 25 million reasons to live.”


Psychology majors, are you paying attention? Ethridge just revealed the surefire way to cure patients of depression — simply tell them that they need to start generating $#! * loads of money.

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