Garrigan
It didn’t go unnoticed that Titans Coach Jeff Fisher, who usually calls team cancer Pacman Jones by that nickname (or simply “Pac”), consistently referred to him over the weekend as Adam Jones. We’d probably dust off the birth name too if we had an irascible thug among our ranks. More likely, we’d exile the SOB someplace. Anywhere but here.
The way we see it, Fisher has two choices with his serial troublemaker. He can sit back and watch the situation fester, letting Pacman’s scandals make the team a nightly target for Jay Leno punch lines. Or he can act like a real leader and rid Nashville of a dangerous disgrace who has proved himself unworthy of respect. Let’s dispense with the delusional palaver about how Jones hasn’t yet been proven guilty of anything, has gotten breaks from judges in the past, simply finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time, etc., etc. Enough. Overwhelming evidence says he’s a chronic screw-up, a hooligan and an embarrassment to the Titans and the entire city. (See also Desperately Seeking the News on p. 12.)
It won’t suffice to leave Jones’ punishment to the NFL. That’s like leaving Baskin-Robbins to punish ice cream. The most relevant comparison to Pacman Jones may be Baltimore’s Ray Lewis, who, like our own hoodlum, is the biggest impact player on his team’s defense. How did Lewis celebrate after the 2000 Super Bowl in Atlanta, the year the Titans played? By riding off in his limo with men who had just stabbed two people to death. Lewis initially faced murder charges, but he had an excuse ready: he claimed he didn’t know his two passengers had just committed a double homicide. Not the strongest defense you’d expect from a linebacker, but it was good enough: the charges were later dropped. And it was good enough for the NFL, which took no action against Lewis in the shameful episode.
They probably won’t take action against Pacman, either. No matter that he may have been involved in—or simply known about—a grisly crime at a Las Vegas nightclub, in which three people ended up shot. Police say he doesn’t seem to have done anything criminal—at least anything they can prove.
In which case, any meaningful punitive action for Jones’ latest potential offense—not to mention a string of other unrelated ones—is really left to Fisher. He could find some way to suspend the player without pay for a major part of the season, if not all of it. Tampa Bay took a similar course with Keyshawn Johnson, as did Philadelphia with Terrell Owens, though these actions happened once the season was more than half over. Neither was suspended because of brushes with the law, but because he was a scourge to the team.
Fisher could also do nothing, which would send a terrible message to the city and to his team. Or he could fine Jones. But the hit of a few thousand bucks, or even $50,000—or a one-game suspension, which the Titans tried last year—is unlikely to get the attention of someone willing to tease strippers with $3,500 worth of singles before reportedly roughing up a dancer who reached for money without his permission.
Finally—and this is what we think Fisher should do—he could trade Jones. (Better yet, if there’s a way to swing it, suspend him without pay and then send Pacman packing.) Sure, if the Titans trade him, they won’t receive his full on-the-field value in return, as his trade value is diminished right now. But the gesture would make Fisher a hero in Nashville, offering proof that the Titans take their role seriously as the city’s representatives on a national playing field.
The coach could take a cue from another Nashville leader, who recently knocked down a mean-spirited English-only bill passed by the Metro Council that threatened to blacken the city’s eye. In which case, Fisher’s press conference statement might go something like this:
Football is our game. It has been so since before the city voted to bring us here more than 10 years ago.
It is the sport we play as we conduct ourselves in the NFL. In order to get ahead on this team, a person needs to be known for playing football and not for spitting on women and befriending drug dealers.
That is not going to change. We don’t need a thug to help us excel at a game we already play well.
We don’t need a distraction that will make it harder for me to do my job or for my team to stay focused. This behavior was introduced as soon as Adam Jones came to Nashville in 2005, and since then he has shown little interest in improving himself. Some say he is an important asset while many others say he has no place here.
This is not who we are. At the heart of this is the issue of respect. We are dealing with that by punishing players who commit crimes. But this particular player has acted beyond what punitive action will cure and has put at risk our team and its ability to welcome and work with this community and those who want to be a part of what we do.
Without Adam Jones on the field, our team may pay a price. But we have been forced to conclude that, off the field, the price of keeping him in our lineup is just too high. Our goal is always to win. But it is never to win at any price.
This player does not reflect who we are. We are not only a football team but part of this community. The great overarching truth in our success in this still new century is that we are a welcoming, inclusive and friendly team playing to a generous city.
If this player stays here, Nashville will be a less safe, less friendly and less successful city. As coach, I cannot allow that to happen. Therefore I am trading No. 32 so that we can turn our full attention once again to football and mutual respect for one another and making this city proud, which are the real work of the Titans and should be the work of its leaders now and forever.