Crimes and so-called misdemeanors

It’s a still, icy Sunday morning in Midtown. One block away from my apartment, thousands of aching marathoners shoot down L Street with renewed determination as they approach the finish line. It’s inspiring—but I’m stunned. And not by the runners: It’s what’s on my TV. It’s Oakland Raider Rolando McClain.

The conundrum: Should a professional athlete—after being arrested for allegedly beating a man to a pulp, then holding a gun to his head and discharging a bullet beside his ear—be allowed to play that week?

Here’s what happened: The Raiders gave linebacker McClain permission to leave practice in the Bay Area to attend his grandfather’s funeral in his native Alabama. Which he did. But the 22-year-old also allegedly got into a fight with a former high-school basketball teammate in his hometown of Decatur. By all accounts, he and friends beat the living hell out of this guy. And then McClain pulled a gun: The guy was crawling on the ground, bleeding from the nose and mouth, begging for his life. McClain obliged—but not before firing off a round beside the guy’s ear.

The next day, the Raider was arrested on misdemeanor charges of assault, menacing, reckless endangerment and firing a gun. That’s right, misdemeanor: If this incident took place in California, McClain would be facing felony charges.

Anyway, it’s now days later, Sunday morning, and I have to ask: Why is McClain on my TV, wearing Raiders number 55 and playing in a football game against the Miami Dolphins?

Raiders head coach Hue Jackson, who said he took this incident seriously, should not only have benched McClain in Miami, the linebacker should not be allowed to suit up until charges are dropped, or until his innocence is apparent. And league commissioner Roger Goodell, who has stated that he prefers to let the judicial process run its course in instances as such, should have intervened and suspended McClain.

But McClain, who denied that he fired off the gun, played in the (ugly) 34-14 loss to the Dolphins—and even lead the Raiders in tackles.

I don’t want to lecture on ethics. But when Brett Favre sends an unwelcome text photo of his dick to a female sportscaster and the league does nothing about it, what does that reaffirm to millions of Americans about sexual harassment and chauvinism?

Similarly, when a 6-foot-3, 255 pound man bloodies another man in a bar parking lot, threatens to kill him—and appears on national television days later, with no repercussions, what does say to millions of Americans about violence?

Anyway, it’s noon on Sunday. Hundreds of cars shoot east down N Street, which is normally dead-silent. The marathoners are going home, men and women, family and friends, an athletic feat unmatched.

I wish I watched it.