I don't know anything about the death of Steve McNair, nor do I wish to speculate. A lot of sordid, sad details are coming out about the man's life, and there's entirely too much sanctimony flying around right now. I'm not going to do that.
I've done awful, awful things in my life. I imagine quite a few of us have, including plenty of those shouting so loudly about McNair's decisions. Well, fuck that.
The only time I've ever truly cared about Steve McNair was back in 2000, when the Rams played the Titans in the Superbowl. We all know the story, that McNair drove the Titans down the field, only to see Mike Jones make a game-saving stop at the goal line.
I don't know what kind of a human being Steve McNair was. Frankly, it doesn't matter to me all that much. All I know is I've never been more afraid of an opponent than McNair for about three minutes in January of 2000. The man was a hell of a competitor. That much I do know.