There was a time when I felt bad for Terrell Owens. No, it wasn't last week, when he again dominated sports headlines after attempting -- or not -- to commit suicide.
It was two summers ago, after it became clear the Eagles weren't giving in and Owens -- egged on by an agent whom God created just so other agents wouldn't look so bad -- wasn't going to be able to extricate himself from the rapidly disintegrating situation in which he found himself.
I read all the coverage, just like everyone else did, and as the sound bites and interviews started to pile up, I realized that TO did not then, and might not ever, "get it." He was simultaneously too stupid, prideful, insecure and manipulative to ever understand just how badly he had screwed up with an organization, fanbase, coach and team who all desperately wanted to see him succeed.
That's the thing about Owens. He's not a thoroughly bad guy. This isn't some one-dimensional movie villain. Listening to his teammates talk about him, it was clear that most of them really liked the guy, and didn't understand why he couldn't see what everyone else could see. And as Owens' too-numerous defenders are so fond of pointing out, he's not a guy who shows up on the police blotter (before last week).
But that shouldn't obstruct the fact that Owens is a villain. Hell, even Charles Manson has his good points. That doesn't mean we should let him out of the hole any time soon.