Rules. The basic foundation of any civilized society. Your fantasy league has rules, right? Even in its simplest form, your favorite board game generally comes with rules on folded white pamphlets in a bag with the dice and the little plastic men.
Rules. The human roadmap to decency and order – not to mention the correct way to play Yahtzee.
Without rules you have unrest, disorganization and anarchy. Now while a state of anarchy is interesting in books or the movies, it would actually be quite terrifying in real life. Most of us are raised to respect rules and follow them with a fair amount of consistency. Of course the threat of being arrested or vilified, shunned or incarcerated is a deterrent, but obviously not enough as evidenced by the prison overpopulation issue in the United States, but you get the gist.
Of course, Dallas Cowboys WR Dez Bryant plays by his own rules. Or depending on who is telling the story, the rules set by the Cowboys , or his “advisor” David Wells, or by Bryant himself. Strict guidelines have been set forth to keep the young Cowboys receiver out of trouble and out of harm’s way. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Is he really that devoid of personal values and humility when it comes to making the appropriate choices as a member of society?
The details are hilarious. At all times, Bryant must be accompanied by up to three rotating bodyguards. At all times!! I hope his bathroom is big, or things could get somewhat uncomfortable. What, all of a sudden he’s the King of Pop? He’s risen to such infamous status that he needs multiple chaperones to keep him safe and out of trouble? Truth be told, I wouldn’t know Dez Bryant if I walked into him on the street. Maybe if he had the helmet on and the #88 jersey – but if that is out in the streets, I’d probably just think he’s some delusional Dallas head-case. Quite possibly I am not that far off. On a more pressing note, I hope Cowboys QB Tony Romo can get the ball to Bryant with the rotating triple coverage down field.
Seriously though, what you call bodyguards, I see as an entourage, serving only to enable him further in his narcissistic ways. Instant crew, right? Never mind they’re tanks in Armani suits serving as glorified babysitters. Here’s a thought Dez, venture out in public, behave and act like a responsible adult. Shock the world with some decency.
The hilarity continues. Bryant is to refrain from drinking alcohol. On the bright side, if that alone prevents him from eventually sporting a watermelon-sized gut similar to the one that rests on my lap like a tray table, so be it. But getting a ride to all team functions, including practices and games?? That should embarrass the star right off of his helmet. Hey, maybe they can drop him off down the road a bit so the other kids don’t point fingers and giggle. Actually he’s getting off light – I got dropped off in a 1971 puke-green Ford Torino station wagon with wood panels. My guess is Bryant’s ride will be just a bit sweeter.
Moving along, Bryant must attend multiple weekly counseling sessions. Actually those will come in handy to help him deal with the inevitable depression caused to the next rule. He is essentially banned from patronizing strip clubs (and I find this part hysterical) unless team management approves the visit. You sure blew that one pal. Because really hot strippers HATE rich professional athletes, right? Whew, crisis averted.
I just can’t see Uncle Jerry endorsing an evening trip to Baby Doll’s. Of course as part of the new structure, the security team would have to travel along with him. That said, I wouldn’t imagine they’d mind too much with that detail, but you have to wonder how much attention Bryant will be getting from them when Debbie 42DD is shaking her thing on the main stage. Safe to say it beats being the guy who gets saddled with having to drive him back and forth from practice every day. Booooring.
Given the Cowboys track record in dealing with “challenging” players, I am not overly confident this will have a storybook ending unless Bryant does some soul searching. It boggles the mind that the people with the most truly don’t appreciate it and are far too eager to fritter it away.
At 23 years of age, Bryant should know better. He has a God-given talent, so rare, so special that it affords him the opportunity to play football on the world’s biggest stage for dare I say, America’s Team. He sports a frame that made him stand out in high school and made scouts dribble uncontrollably onto their notepads. Ultimately Oklahoma State University embraced him with open arms.
Of course, his indiscretions started early. Indiscretions that cost Bryant part of what would be his last season at OSU for violating an NCAA bylaw. Granted nothing overly serious, and I could write another entire article on the ridiculousness of NCAA rules and regulations, but I digress. The fact is the feeling of entitlement began early and it proved to be a precursor for future malfeasance and ignorance.
The Cowboys thought enough of Bryant as a player to trade up three spots to the 24th pick in the 2010 NFL Draft to obtain his services. They thought enough of him as a player to allow him to don the same number worn by past Cowboy greats Michael Irvin and Drew Pearson. They also thought enough of him as a player to sign Bryant to a five year, 12.05 million dollar deal, more than half of which is guaranteed. That’s more money than most reading this article could ever comprehend. Think about it, 12.05 million. That’s lottery, hold the giant check and smile for the camera money.
Now I get it, upbringing has a lot to do with how we are shaped as human beings. But I still don’t consider that an excuse to be a punk, a malcontent and an idiot. No one’s mother deserves to be slapped with a hat, have their shirt pulled and bra ripped. Not even the mother from Throw Momma From The Train. Bryant has to realize that with the contract, the notoriety and the status brings a powerful microscope. Everything is scrutinized and the fact that he has to have his hand held is absolutely ludicrous.
In the broad spectrum of your life, your football career is only ONE stop on the journey and a very quick stop at that. Embrace every moment, and refuse to let stupidity and feelings of over-blown entitlement curtail that. Grasp the reality that we are all expendable and can be replaced in the blink of an eye. Don’t be foolish enough to think otherwise.
It’s sad really – I grew up in the era were sports figures were seemingly bigger than life. I am not naïve enough to think that these guys never got into trouble, but the level of trouble seems to be pedestrian when compared to today’s athletes. Of course now the internet brings all the lurid details straight into your living room, but ignorance was bliss then I guess. Instant gratification in the information age hides nothing and protects no one.
I’ll harken to one of my childhood NFL heroes. WWECD? What would Earl Campbell Do?? I’ll bet you that 12.05 million he would have NEVER slapped Ms. Ann with a baseball cap. The Tyler Rose knew respect and demeanor. Quiet class – undeniable power.
In 1973 Philadelphia soul artists The Intruders scored a hit with the song “I’ll Always Love My Momma”.. I think I’ll send a copy to Dez. Yep, Earl knew it… Ann, Earl and Mr. Heisman.
Look, I am just some working stiff with an opinion and a forum to voice it. Bryant has the world at his cleated feet and additionally he has the wherewithal to make a difference on and off the football field. The choice is his.
From a fantasy standpoint, if he’s healthy Bryant remains a solid option. There is no mistaking his talent, but there is no denying he is one bone-headed decision away from a league suspension or worse. Everything could come tumbling down at any moment and that is unfortunate and unsettling. Injuries are one thing, but the fact that the buddy system has been employed to keep him on the straight and narrow should leave fantasy owners just a bit concerned on draft day.
If you decide to draft Bryant, I just might have to slap you with my baseball cap. I could actually use the entourage of bodyguards to accentuate my tough guy image. Dan-Rules, baby.
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