While Terrell Owens spits, Albert Haynesworth stomps, and Michael Vick gives the digital salute, it is the NBA that has added a dress code and heavy fines.
Eight Cincinnati Bengals have been arrested this year. The Bears' Tank Johnson has a gun charge and a murdered bodyguard. Terrell Owens gives showers with his on-field commentary. Miami announcer Lamar Thomas wanted to join the brawl with Florida International. And though he may be too slow to suit up for more than penitentiary orange, Maurice Clarett has gone from bowl hero to stickup man. So why is it NBA players that fans have labeled thugs, their commissioner has told what to wear, and sportswriters have associated with the worst of hip hop culture? Is Ron Artest a harder case than Sean Taylor or Clarett? Stephen Jackson than Tank Johnson? Allen Iverson than Frosty Rucker? No one has labeled football players a band of crooks.
To understand why, we must examine the places football and basketball occupy in the American culture, and the different mindset which best suits one to excel at these sports. Basketball, for as long as most of us can remember, has always been viewed as an urban game. Before it was predominantly Black American, the game was dominated by the likes of Harry Boykin, Dolph Schayes, and Arnie Risen. Pete Axthelm even penned a popular book called "The City Game". ESPN has a series called "Streetball". Magazines such as "SLAM" and "Dime" tout the "street cred" of various players, particularly with their popularity vis-a-vis product endorsement.
Football has never been considered anything but legalized mayhem. It's patron saint, Vince Lombardi called it "controlled violence". Unlike basketball, its terminology is fraught with bombs, blitzes, field generals, attacks, and sacking. Pro footballers have been called modern gladiators. The short-lived XFL played up this theme- and was appropriately founded by wrestling tycoon Vince McMahon. Fans and sports journalists expect football players to enjoy contact and endure pain. What were Dick Butkus, Jack Lambert and Jack Tatum if not borderline kamikazes? Add Lyle Alzado, Bill Romanowski and the late Andre "Dirty" Waters. Yet we never call them "street". Rae Carruth, former gangbanger as he is alleged to have been, was not associated in the media with hip hop culture. In the NBA, Shaq, Iverson, Artest and others have actually released albums. Don't 25-year old NFL players listen to Young Jeezy and 50 Cent?
It was the Pistons-Pacers "Malice at the Palace" brawl that, for the masses, typified this link between basketball and The Corner. No matter what Lawrence Phillips or O.J. Simpson has done to make headlines, the gridiron tradition is defined by the All-American image of Knute Rockne, Johnny Unitas and Joe Paterno. One could bring Frank Gifford, Roger Staubach or Art Monk home to meet the parents or date the sister. The criminals on campus were Chris Webber's Fab Five, not Tom Osborne's Cornhuskers. The notable exception would be "The U" (University of Miami), where the football program was labeled as a den of hoodlums. Thus the issue is more complex than race, as the NFL and NBA are both more than 60% Black. Perhaps, subconsciously, we know one has to be a little nuts to play opposite Lawrence Taylor or Julius Peppers. Some football behavior is attributed to the side effects steroid use. Basketball players have no analogous "excuse". If they wreak havoc, it must be their upbringing, their nature. When we read of the Vikings' boat party, T.O.'s slanderous statements, and the Bengals' blotter, our pop psychology doesn't kick in. We blame neither cornrows, gangster rap, nor the public school system. One might argue that Alonzo Spellman, O.J., Phillips, Carruth, Ray Lewis, Waters, and Clarett make Dennis Rodman look like Nicole Richie. Not to mention biker boys Ben Roethlisberger and Kellen Winslow II.
Football is Pop Warner, Tom Landry and Thanksgiving. Basketball is Bronx-meet-world. It's all a more a matter of perception than reality.