Has there ever been a better time to be an Alabama football player than today?
When you can be found in possession of marijuana and a stolen firearm in not just another Southeastern Conference state, but the state of bitter rival Louisiana State University, and have those charges dropped by your hometown’s district attorney, well, you’re pretty much untouchable, aren’t you?
At least it certainly looks that way where Crimson Tide offensive tackle Cam Robinson is concerned. Back on May 17 in their hometown of Monroe, La., Robinson and Bama teammate Hootie Jones were arrested at 2:23 in the morning while sitting in a parked car at a public park with two other men.
Under Robinson’s seat was a handgun reported stolen more than a year earlier in Baldwin County, Ala. (near Mobile). Possession of a stolen firearm in Louisiana is a felony and often carries a one-year prison term. Jones also was in possession of a firearm. Though he had no permit for it, it had not been reported stolen.
As for the marijuana, pinning clear ownership of a gram or less of pot on any one of the four apparently was more than the authorities could handle.
Regardless, there seemed to be enough wrong with this picture to have both Robinson and Jones in a heap of legal trouble in the Southern town of 48,000. Especially since most of them probably bleed LSU purple and gold and scream “Geaux Tigers” every autumn Saturday.
Yet what did Ouachita Parish’s district attorney decide to do with Robinson and Jones? He let them off. Without a scratch.
Then he delivered an explanation that could be delivered only in the South.
Said D.A. Jerry Jones, who’s been elected five times to his position: “I want to emphasize once again that the main reason I’m doing this is that I refuse to ruin the lives of two young men who have spent their adolescence and teenage years working and sweating, while we were all in the air conditioning.”
He also said as his silver hair and goatee glistened in the television camera lights, a picture most perfect of Southern jurisprudence: “There is a legal basis and a personal basis for this (ruling), and I’m going to take the blame.”
Jones should take some blame, even if hometown authorities have been protecting hometown sports heroes for decades, hopeful their youthful mistakes won’t destroy their one obvious chance to make something special of their lives as adults. And there apparently were enough legal holes that any respectable lawyer could have gotten the players off, or at least left them with little more than community service and a fine.
But the two should have gotten something, if only for being stupid, if only to show the next spoiled jock that stupidity never should be rewarded.
Of course, some might think Alabama coach Nick Saban’s task once D.A. Jones – and feel free to substitute your own meanings for D. and A. – passed the buck was to become the adult in the room. And he might yet, but almost every media type with ties to Alabama football, beginning with ESPN’s Paul Finebaum, believes whatever discipline Lord Saban chooses, it won’t include suspending Robinson and Jones for the season opener against Southern Cal.
“I wouldn’t let (Robinson) play for a couple of games,” Finebaum said. “(But) I sincerely doubt Nick Saban would do that.”
Now contrast that with Tide coaching legend Bear Bryant, who suspended Joe Namath for the final two games of the 1963 season, supposedly for drinking off campus. Not exactly being parked in a car with drugs and a stolen gun at 2:23 in the morning, but more than enough to make the Bear angry.
This isn’t to say those times are the same as these times. Life is different. The backgrounds of the individuals you coach are different. The advice whispered in their ears or tweeted on their phones is different, too – vastly different than 53 years ago.
Love or loathe him, Saban’s way has won four national titles in seven years in a far more difficult SEC than Bryant worked. Yet the true measure of that work should not be taken until his players become husbands, fathers, employees and employers. Say what you will of Bryant, but most of the players tough enough to last four years with him became pretty solid citizens.
Beyond that, Robinson’s stupidity is far more difficult to forgive, since Ole Miss’s Laremy Tunsil had just dropped at least eight places in this year’s draft not two weeks earlier for a marijuana issue. If you can’t learn from others, maybe it’s time to endure a penalty strong enough to encourage others to learn from you.
And maybe that will be Saban’s plan. No one yet knows. But no matter how many stadium steps Robinson runs or community service hours he serves, if he fails to miss so much as a single game despite being arrested for drugs and a stolen gun, one wonders how strongly any disciplinary action will resonate with those tempted to follow in his footsteps.
Decades after his suspension, Namath wrote: “In the long run, it made a very positive impact on me. Rules are rules. I have two daughters and I am trying to teach them that, too. Coach Bryant did the right thing.”
If the current Bama coach doesn’t have strong enough rules against drugs and possessing stolen guns to administer at least a one-game suspension, he should, lest the next place his players enjoy air conditioning be under lock and key.
Contact Mark Wiedmer at mwiedmer@timesfreepress.com