By Wyatt Earp | July 28, 2005
I’ve had it.
If I had my way, Eagles wide receiver Terrell Owens would never step foot in my town again. Just post me at the city limits with my six shooter and my ten-gallon hat. For those not in the know, Owens and his weasel agent, Drew Rosenhaus, have been crying poverty to anyone who will listen. The terrible two have done everything in their power to distract the team (and the fans) at just the right time: a few days before training camp opens on August 1st.
“T.O.,” which must mean “Totally Oblivious,” has said that he can’t feed his family on the $3.25 million he will make this season. And he said that with a straight face:
“I’m sort of like the man of the house,” Owens said yesterday. “I’m taking care of everybody – my brother and sister in college, their children, my mother, my grandmother. That’s what a lot of people don’t understand… [$3.25 million] might be a lot of money for somebody not playing in the professional arena; it’s not for someone playing in the professional arena.”
As if that wasn’t bad enough, uber-weasel Rosenhaus followed up with this little gem (and I’m paraphrasing here): Rosenhaus said that since Tom Cruise makes $50 million per film, T.O. should get much, much more than he is currently receiving. Why? Here it comes: “because he is out there risking his life every day.”
Hold on a second, I’m having a brain aneurysm.
Okay, I’m back. Drew. Baby. Your player isn’t risking his life every day. How often do NFL players die on the field? You know who is risking their lives every day? Our troops. Firefighters. Police Officers. T.O.,I’ll let you in on a little secret. You know what I make annually as a police officer? About $50,000. My wife doesn’t work, because she chose to raise our two children. Four of us on $50,000. And I don’t complain about it – we get by. But spare me your sanctimonious attitude. If you are looking for sympathy in this town, you don’t understand your fan base. Jackass.