I was pretty shocked to hear Reggie White died today. He was a great Down lineman and was the player who ushered in the current free agent system. (The then Philly owner was claiming to be nearing bankruptcy and when White forced him to open his books the owners claims were verified except that the owner was taking a salary package worth $135 million per year not including the taxes paid by the team.
This deceptive bookkeeping enabled White to be the first free agent)
Weird thing is that in thinking about White my thoughts drifted to another set of more personal deaths and the guilt it entails. Each death in this life lessens us all. All deaths leave someone longing and in pain. Just because I know that there is no real blame involved it doesn't mean that guilt doesn't come up and bite you now and then. (For those who don't know my wife and son were killed in a studio parking lot. They were visiting me at work to get some more cash for Christmas shopping. They were shot by children with shot guns who took the cash and my wife's Cartier watch to buy crack) I have a hard time not feeling guilty. Even now the thoughts come up, "Why didn't I walk her to the car?" Why didn't I say, "wait a few hours and I'll go with you"? And on and on and on.
The all comes back up because a great football player who was a great man (He helped get one of my British players placed in a school over here) died today at 43. Life is dumb.
All of this overshadows the fact the landlord gave me until tomorrow to come up with the rent . . .