O.J.

On the death of O.J. Simpson

O.J. Simpson is gone.

Once, long ago, his death would have brought laments and considerable mourning.

Not just for his family and friends, but for many people.

People in and around and fans of professional football.

People in and around and fans of the entertainment industry.

Instead, it is a significant death, a notable loss.

And not much more.

There was a time when he was the most graceful of athletes playing in one of the most brutal sports.

His running was poetry in motion.

His jukes and fakes were the stuff of legend.

From Potrero Hill in San Francisco to USC.

From USC to Heisman trophy winner.

From Heisman trophy winner to the NFL.

From the NFL to sports immortality.

The first running back to run for 2,000 yards in a season.

The television movies and commercials.

The motion pictures.

Monday Night Football.

Then, one Sunday night, everything changed.

His ex-wife and a restaurant server were murdered.

He was arrested.

Then was let out on bailed.

Then led police on an interminable car chase through LA.

Tried for what seemed like an eternity.

And found “not guilty.”

Many Black people thought he was innocent.

Many White people thought he was guilty.

I was an exception.

I was a Black person who thought he was guilty.

But I watched family members and friends cheer, cry, and celebrate his not-guilty verdict.

The Black community supported him and believed in his innocence during the murder trial because they know what can happen to any Black person in America, wealthy, famous, or neither.

And this was despite the fact that he said, “I’m not Black, I’m O.J.”

Later, lots of legal trouble, culminating in 2007 with his arrest for taking sports memorabilia at gunpoint.

This time, Johnnie Cochran did not defend him.

He was found guilty and served almost nine years of a thirty-three-year sentence.

From sports legend to suspected murderer to free man to convicted felon.

The punchline of so many tasteless jokes.

Talent wasted, but more importantly, a life wasted.

A tainted legacy.

Today, we could be talking about a life well lived.

One that matched unbelievable athletic achievements with years of entertainment success.

Someone who was given a lot, and in return, gave a lot back.

Instead, we are left with an unsatisfying ending.

One with regret and remorse, thinking of what could have been.

Instead of the sheer horror and sadness of what was.