Tuesday, May 13, 2008
As the season started, the on-field timing between Owens and McNabb seemed crisp, though their interactions on the sideline (obsessively scrutinized by fans) were distant or nonexistent. The team seemed to be gradually refocusing on a return to the Super Bowl. But Owens could not stop himself from carping at the Eagles on TV, and after weeks of disruptions and distractions, he was suspended for four games on Nov. 5 and later permanently deactivated.
In his Nov. 18 grievance hearing before an NFL arbitrator (who would rule in the Eagles' favor), 14 hours of testimony from coaches and management filled in the blanks -- a sad chronicle of Owens' petty, childish provocations, from refusing to open his play book at team meetings to parking in handicapped spaces at the stadium. The climactic incidents were a fight in the locker room with an ex-teammate (reputedly over the implication that Owens was faking an injury) and Owens' refusal to apologize to McNabb after denigrating his quarterbacking abilities in a TV interview.
But what really infuriated Philadelphia fans was when, after an embarrassing 33-10 loss to the hated Dallas Cowboys in Texas Stadium on Oct. 9, Owens insolently donned a No. 88 Michael Irvin throwback Cowboys jersey for the flight home. Sports radio seethed not only at Owens but at our maddeningly phlegmatic coach and other players for passively permitting this insult without protest or comment. It became apparent that the team was splitting into pro- and anti-Owens camps.
Not helped by this uncertainty and turmoil, McNabb suffered one injury after another this season -- a bruised sternum, a pulled groin, and a nagging sports hernia requiring an operation (performed last week). McNabb's season is over -- and with it all hope that the McNabb-Owens partnership could have rivaled such supreme quarterback-wide receiver combos as the Pittsburgh Steelers' Terry Bradshaw and Lynn Swann or the 49ers' Joe Montana and Jerry Rice.
Owens has been shelved. Like Achilles sulking in his tent, the great warrior is languishing on the margins and relegated to throwing himself parties. (Owens' 32nd birthday festivities in Atlantic City on Monday night featured hired party girls in football jerseys; 19 Eagles turned up, but not McNabb.) Owens' strange self-destruction does indeed seem like something out of the Iliad. T.O. has Achilles' strength, beauty and physical perfection combined with his self-intoxicated hubris and rampant disregard for the collective mission.
Worst of all, however, is the effect on race relations here. Before the Owens epic, there was very little race talk in Philadelphia sports. The Philadelphia Eagles are a heavily black team that has had three black quarterbacks over the past 19 years. The team leader, after McNabb, is lethal free safety Brian Dawkins, a three-time All-Pro with a trademark style of burning intensity and soulful, soft-spoken intellectuality.
Two years ago, when Rush Limbaugh commented on TV about McNabb's status as a black quarterback, the resulting furor seemed to be among the national media and made little impact here. The passionate, often rabidly negative commentary on the Eagles by radio callers of every race has always been colorblind. Players were mercilessly evaluated only for their talents and execution on the field.
But Owens let the racial genie out of the bottle. Suddenly, Owens' dwindling supporters in the city were calling radio stations and denouncing McNabb as a "sellout," the cooperative "house Negro" kowtowing to "the man," the plantation master (Eagles and NFL management), while Owens is the proud, brave, uppity "field hand" whipped for his defiance and independence. Others dismissed McNabb as "Wonderbread," the coddled "golden boy," the "$100 million man" who "got his" and left his brothers behind.
A black caller recently said of McNabb's Campbell's soup commercials (which unsettlingly feature his bossy, dynamic mother), "Donovan gave up some of his blackness to be accepted by white corporate America." Last week, the head of the Philadelphia chapter of the NAACP published a harsh column in a local black newspaper berating McNabb for denigrating the scrambling tradition of mobile black quarterbacks by obstinately refusing to run instead of throw.
This is Terrell Owens' toxic legacy -- ugly talk that has poisoned the well and sparked racial discord in a generally tranquil city with a black mayor. Owens gave the Eagles indelible sports moments, but no highlight reel can compensate for the chaos and bitterness he brought.
The Eagles are currently devastated: With 12 key starters injured, they have their first losing season in six years and, as of their 26-23 overtime loss to the New York Giants on Sunday, are officially out of the playoffs. Their humiliating 42-0 defeat by the Seattle Seahawks at home in Philadelphia on "Monday Night Football" on Dec. 5 was their most lopsided loss in 33 years.
Goodbye, Terrell -- wherever you're headed. Thanks for the memories, but as a fierce funk song says, "Just let the doorknob hit you where the dog shoulda bit you!"
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