I Knew Him, But Did I KNOW Him?

OK, white people, make up your minds. Is he Doughboy with 4.4 speed? Is he O-Dog with the ability to intercept?

Make up your minds!

Damn, black folks go through enough shit in this world. We can't even die in peace. We've got to die in controversy, in a swirl of racism. But I suppose it makes sense, since that is essentially how we come in this world, right?

As you probably know by now, Sean Taylor died from a gunshot wound the other morning. It's tragic on a number of levels. He's the second NFL player murdered this year. Correction: He's the second BLACK NFL player murdered this year. Darrent Williams, like Sean Taylor, also was 24.

For some reason, Sean Taylor's murder resonated more with me than Darrent Williams. Mainly because I know Sean Taylor. Or rather, I know him, but I don't know him.

Never met him before in my life, but throughout my life, I've come across different caricatures of him. He was young, talented, brash, and matured right in front of us. He was a black boy once lost, but then found. He was striving, but not quite there yet. We see these black men every day. Just a black man trying to find his way.

It's sad because, despite fame, money, popularity, a new kid, a new fiance, a police chief daddy, a Pro Bowl on the resume, he ultimately succumbed to being another black men shot dead. What makes Taylor's case more frightening than Williams is that Taylor was shot in his home, with his fiance and 18-month-old in the room. Darrent Williams' death also was untimely. But it was New Year's Eve. He was at a celebrity birthday party (Kenyon Martin). He was with other high-profile Broncos players. It's been reported that WR Brandon Marshall got into a confrontation with some fool at the bar. Darrent and his party decided to leave before the spot got hot. A few minutes later, their limo was shot up, presumbably by the same dudes who had beef.

That situation isn't a shock. But a player get snuffed out in their own crib with wifey and child huddled in fear underneath the covers? Scary shit.

What's troubling is the media has shown virtually no compassion toward Taylor because yes, he has had a few scrapes with the law. He got into a beef with someone who supposedly had stolen from him. Taylor allegedly pulled out a gun on the dude, even though that was never substantiated in a court of law. He eventually plead to a misdemeanor. Later on, his car was shot up about 30 times. He wasn't in it, but obviously, if you're car is being shot up, you have created an enemy or two.

Those are relevant as we try to shape and figure out who did this to Sean Taylor. Well, they were, until the police said his previous troubles didn't seem to bear any connection on his murder. But, of course, the media didn't drop it. Most things said and written about this man carries the undertone that he deserved the violent because SHOCKER, in his early 20s, he'd made some bad decisions.

But you know how the media do. If they can't make it stick, they just make up shit. I heard someone say Taylor had escaped his "background." Oh really? You mean the background that included growing up in a middle-class home and attending an exclusive Miami prep school? Someone else talked about him breaking away from unsavory characters. Oh, really? Funny, his former Miami teammates said he had kept to himself since he got into trouble. Another columnist said he kept his circle small and didn't trust anyone. Various media members admitted no one knew him that well because he didn't like the media, yet in the same breadth they have made some grandiose assumptions about his character. Now we see why he didn't talk to their asses.

Sadly, this is the never-ending media two-step. CNN, MSNBC, punk-ass FOX, and everyone else make a living out of making black people seem like America's No. 1 nightmare. All day, e'eery day, people are shown images of black people as perpetrators. So when we're actually victims, people still try to make us into criminals, or make the crimes puported against us seem justified.

OF COURSE, that doesn't happen to white folks. Y'all know that. Kurt Cobain, dude from INXS, and a host of other celebrities have committed suicide or overdosed, and their deaths always are romanticized. They are always viewed and constructed as tragic, sympathetic figures. Should Keith Richards drop dead tomorrow of an overdose, his drug abuse will be noted, but people will mostly talk about what a great musician he is and how it's such a tragedy. Natalee Holloway also has been painted as a tragic figure and if she were held to the same standards as Sean Taylor, the media would spend most of their time calling her stupid for leaving with three men she didn't know. If Natalee were Rashida, there were would be hour-long specials devoted to examining what dumbass parents would allow their teenage daughter to go to a foreign country unsupervised knowing the druggin' and drinkin' likely to occur.

But let me leave that there and deal with something else that hasn't been talked about as much -- the difference between Miami and everywhere else. Taylor is just the latest 'Cane to befall a tragic circumstances. In the last 17 years, nine 'Canes have died. Last year, Bryan Pata was shot in the head, execution style. Linebacker Marlin Barnes and his girlfriend were murdered by a jealous former boyfriend.

Miami is unique, beautiful (in spots), and extraordinarily dangerous. Particularly for Miami players. Football is the lifeblood of Florida, but in Miami it's the veins and cartilage, too. A Miami football player would have as much juice as Shaq in Miami. They are revered and such celebrity, especially when Luther Campbell has been bankrolling your program for years, is a target for animosity, too.

And that's the special conundrum black athletes are in. They're already targets because of their fame and wealth. Add in their skin color, which makes black men six times more likely to be murdered than a white man, and it's a powder keg. Unfortunately, the jealousy factor among blacks is horrific. When a black athlete steps into a club, he's also facing a supreme wall of hate. Dudes that don't think he's that good of a ballplayer. Dudes that are pissed all the women killing each other to get up in VIP with the ballers. Dudes who are like, "man I ran for 100 yards on that fool in high school. Fugg him."

As a friend pointed out, here's the major difference between white haters and black haters. If a white boy doesn't make it, he might be jealous of the superstar athlete that did, but...he's a CPA or an attorney. He's found a measure of success beyond athletics. He doesn't have the need to justify the accomplishments against the athlete that made it.

But with us, it ain't that simple. That black hata in the club, pissed he wasn't the big-time football star, didn't go on and become something else. Since too many black folks place all hopes on rappin' or ballin', odds are the black hata started slangin' or didn't do shit. And worse, black hata is strapped hatin' yo ass because you've made something of yourself.

Miami is portrayed as a beautiful, noveau, upperclass city. Truth: Miami is a shithole. Not completely, but it's some shit-hole-ish going on. But that's any inner city. There is a wide chasm between the have and have nots. But those have nots still have access to the same venues as the haves.

This is the pressurized swirl black athletes find themselves in. Wanting to stick close to black folks, but doing so could get them killed or hurt. Just a generation removed from poverty, first generation money responsible for family and crew that couldn't get on for their damn selves.

Not even in death can we get peace.