It's sad to see him gamble it all away

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© St. Petersburg Times
published March 5, 2003

He gambled.

Of course he gambled.

He gambled with his education, his reputation and his expectations. He gambled with his athletic career, with his legacy, with his future.

He gathered all the promise heaven handed him and he let it ride.

And, now, Adrian McPherson is busted.

Understand, the fault is his and his alone. McPherson has no excuses and he should not attempt to manufacture one. Every explanation he has offered, from the moment trouble first found him, sounds hollow and untrue today.

And yet, I feel sorry for him.

I'm not sure why that is, because, really, we should be angry and disillusioned. We should feel betrayed, and curse a trust forever broken.

Instead, Tuesday's news feels like nothing but sadness.

Sadness at his self-inflicted misfortune. Sadness for all those who once believed in him. Mostly, sadness for a promise left unfulfilled.

This was a good kid. A polite, friendly and exciting athlete. Raised, from all appearances, in a good home with caring parents.

So why have we grown accustomed to the sight of his name on police reports? On top of the earlier felony charges of forgery, on top of the charges of grand theft, there is now an official accusation of gambling. A misdemeanor in the eyes of the law, but a death sentence to a college athletic career.

It was not so long ago McPherson's supporters were insinuating Florida State had done him wrong. The gambling rumors had begun soon after he was kicked off the football team for stealing a blank check. His attorney said McPherson was "offended" by the suggestion of gambling and accused FSU of helping to tarnish McPherson's reputation.

Turns out, McPherson didn't need the help.

He will now have a career memorable in ways never before imagined. No matter what story is written about athletes and the ruin of gambling in the coming years, McPherson's name will figure prominently.

He will be the example we point to. A star athlete with a bright future who left in shame. The campus hero who, at the cost of a few bets, threw it away.

They say he bet on FSU games, but always to win. As if that news, somehow, should make us feel better.

Frankly, at this point, the distinction is minor. How can we be sure he did not have more interest in point spreads than we'll ever know? How do we know the over/under was not occasionally a factor?

How can you not think back to a fumble or an interception and wonder what was going through McPherson's mind at that moment? Was he offering inside information to other gamblers as a way to pay off bets?

Because, let's face it, no matter what he says today is subject to doubt.

He once admitted to stealing the blank check, but claimed he threw it away unsigned. Police say he forged it. He once claimed to have never gambled on college games. Police say he was betting on a regular basis. He once wore the face of someone persecuted, but we all know better now.

McPherson supposedly had thousands of dollars in gambling debts, but the real loss cannot be calculated.

A free college education is gone. A celebrity that once would open doors has now turned infamous. A life once so easily imagined must now be redrawn.

It should be pointed out, this guy has talents rarely seen. A football player good enough to play quarterback at Florida State or a basketball player good enough to be recruited as a guard at North Carolina.

Bradenton, his hometown, had seen other special athletes. Peter Warrick and Tommie Frazier led prep teams to state titles and college teams to national titles. And McPherson was supposed to be the best of them all.

He had mobility, poise and a scout's dream of an arm. He was a natural athlete and an unquestioned leader. His teammates so adored him, they nearly created a mutiny in the locker room, leading to Chris Rix being benched and McPherson taking over at midseason.

A few weeks later, he was off the team.

And the news has yet to get better.

Their cases have no relation other than a shared vice, but it's strange how much this feels like the day Pete Rose was banned from baseball.

In both instances, you heard months of rumors before the hammer fell. In both situations, you wished for the best because you had a hard time believing the worst. And now you look at the cheerless life of Rose and worry about what's in store for McPherson.

How does this happen?

It's not like he's spent a lifetime around horse tracks or casinos. Gambling can no doubt be addictive, but how does it grip someone so young?

Did it start as a lark and McPherson got in over his head?

Did no one close to him have an inkling?

How in the world did McPherson not realize the true cost of a bet?

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