T.O.'s Book is Out
By Stan Hochman
Philadelphia Daily News
PHILADELPHIA — It all began with “Z-dagger-and-go” which seems symbolic now, when you think of all the daggers Terrell Owens has stuck in Donovan McNabb’s back and other parts of his anatomy since that 2005 game against Cleveland.
There’s one more hand-carved shiv in the bookstores now. It is called “T.O.” and it is juicier than “Juiced,” the Jose Canseco memoir. It is more truthful than “My Prison Without Bars,” by the hit king, Pete Rose. How’s that for praising with faint damns?
Terrell Owens has written a book, with the semi-professional help of Jason Rosenhaus. Jason is the brother of Drew Rosenhaus, Owens’ eel-slick agent. Next question!
The book is bitter, boisterous, braggadocios. The book is cynical, shocking and self-serving. Yo, I’m just trying to get quoted on the book jacket for the second edition, if there is a second edition, which I strongly doubt.
The book was available at Wal-Mart five days ahead of schedule, adding a splash of controversy. What a surprise. It is coherent, well-organized and makes for lively reading, more surprises.
For a brief period, everybody loved T.O. more than everybody loves Raymond. And then it all unraveled. Owens is happy to tell you when it all went wrong. This is a narcissist, contemplating his own likeness in his own pool, reading between the ripples. Love him or hate him, you will be fascinated by his version of the two turbulent years he spent with the Eagles.
His relationship with McNabb started turning sour in the game against Cleveland that first year. The Eagles had practiced “Z-dagger and go” all week, a play to maximize T.O.’s skills. Andy Reid called it, T.O. shed the defender and McNabb threw elsewhere.
T.O. remembers being “surprised and disappointed,” but decided to stay silent, possibly because he had nine touchdowns after the first seven games. Before the Pittsburgh game, Owens says that one of the offensive coaches asked him to be very positive and supportive toward Donovan. Told him that “Donovan can get nervous and tight in big games.”
“If things got rough and Donovan got into a funk, he wanted me to be there for Donovan and help him get through it.”
Pittsburgh, that was the game the television cameras caught Owens screaming at McNabb on the sideline. Owens insists he was just shouting encouragement. And then, against the Giants, anger came rippling to the surface, and the split hit the fans.
On one play, Owens thought he was open and ignored. Stormed back to the huddle and squawked. Said, “I was open ... dude, you missed me.”
McNabb, according to Owens, replied, “Shut the bleep up.”
T.O. says that no quarterback has the right to treat a teammate like that. Says it was uncalled for. Waited for the clubhouse to empty after the game and then confronted McNabb. Says harsh words ensued. Says Dorsey Levens had to step between them. Says Donovan turned his back and walked away.
“I wanted Donovan and me to be like family,” Owens croons.
“And he turned his back on me.”
Says Donovan was envious of the love the town was showering on T.O. Do you get the feeling that Owens wasn’t content to rip apart last year’s Eagles team? That he wants to make it tougher on McNabb to heal the wounds this year, to squeeze the Preparation-H back into the tube?
Owens is an equal opportunity finger-pointer. Says owner Jeff Lurie told him he “loved” that tawdry “Monday Night Football” pregame skit with Nicollette Sheridan, of “Desperate Housewives.” Says the Eagles curbed their enthusiasm after ABC was flooded with complaints.
T.O. got his leg broken in the second Dallas game that season, on one of those cheap-shot horse-collar tackles. Says he understood when McNabb said afterward, “We’ve been to the NFC championship without T.O.” Then revisits it several times with an increasing screech of bitterness.
Owens gives the reader intimate details of his rehab, a proud recital of his courage in ignoring the doctor’s advice to return to action in Super Bowl XXXIX. But if you’re looking for the inside story of what went wrong in the final three minutes, you won’t find it here.
When Owens angrily says, on television, “I wasn’t the guy who got tired in the Super Bowl,” he reminds the reader over and over and over again that he never identified the guy who did get tired in the Super Bowl.
The book contains a long and devious story about switching agents to the notorious Rosenhaus, and how they were rebuffed by the Eagles when they sought to renegotiate. He decides to report to camp on time.
“I’ll be there,” he warned, “but I won’t be happy.”
He gets hurt, he heals, he practices, and then he balks at signing autographs in training camp. Exasperated, Reid tells him, “Just shut up.” Owens snarls back, feeling disrespected. He insists he wants to be treated like a “grown man” and continues to act like a petulant child, even after being sent home briefly.
The locker-room scuffle with Hugh Douglas? All Douglas’ fault. Says the “team ambassador” taunted him in the trainer’s room, accusing him of faking an injury. Owens got out of the tub, put on his slippers for better traction and confronted Douglas.
Ducked under a right hook, threw a punch to Hugh’s ample tummy, before teammates separated them. Says he did an incendiary interview right after that. Called the Eagles “classless” for not acknowledging a milestone on the stadium’s big screen, called McNabb a hypocrite.
The Eagles suspended him when he refused to read an apology to McNabb as part of his penance. All of this seems like old news except for the part about a phone conversation with Reid, prompted by a visit from Jeremiah Trotter, a staunch supporter.
“Coach Reid said that I should learn to focus on the positives of people, instead of the negatives,” is the way Owens remembers the dialogue. “He was right. I never let go of Donovan’s negatives, and I focused on them, disregarding the fact that he has a very fun, likable personality and wants to win.”
Owens urged Reid to bring him back to the team.
“I could tell that he was conflicted and wanted me back,” Owens says. Reid says he’ll call back. “He called back about an hour later,” Owens says. “I don’t know who he spoke to, but somebody killed it.”
They have changed the rules about suspending insubordinate players. Owens has changed teams, signing with some rag-tag team in Texas. Will probably wear a Trotter jersey when he comes here in October. Will probably do something outrageous when he scores a touchdown.
You just know, in your heart of hearts, T.O. will score a touchdown. One more dagger from that talented, but troubled wide receiver. Two-faced, but both of them handsome. There, if that doesn’t get me on the back cover, nothing will.
Philadelphia Daily News
PHILADELPHIA — It all began with “Z-dagger-and-go” which seems symbolic now, when you think of all the daggers Terrell Owens has stuck in Donovan McNabb’s back and other parts of his anatomy since that 2005 game against Cleveland.
There’s one more hand-carved shiv in the bookstores now. It is called “T.O.” and it is juicier than “Juiced,” the Jose Canseco memoir. It is more truthful than “My Prison Without Bars,” by the hit king, Pete Rose. How’s that for praising with faint damns?
Terrell Owens has written a book, with the semi-professional help of Jason Rosenhaus. Jason is the brother of Drew Rosenhaus, Owens’ eel-slick agent. Next question!
The book is bitter, boisterous, braggadocios. The book is cynical, shocking and self-serving. Yo, I’m just trying to get quoted on the book jacket for the second edition, if there is a second edition, which I strongly doubt.
The book was available at Wal-Mart five days ahead of schedule, adding a splash of controversy. What a surprise. It is coherent, well-organized and makes for lively reading, more surprises.
For a brief period, everybody loved T.O. more than everybody loves Raymond. And then it all unraveled. Owens is happy to tell you when it all went wrong. This is a narcissist, contemplating his own likeness in his own pool, reading between the ripples. Love him or hate him, you will be fascinated by his version of the two turbulent years he spent with the Eagles.
His relationship with McNabb started turning sour in the game against Cleveland that first year. The Eagles had practiced “Z-dagger and go” all week, a play to maximize T.O.’s skills. Andy Reid called it, T.O. shed the defender and McNabb threw elsewhere.
T.O. remembers being “surprised and disappointed,” but decided to stay silent, possibly because he had nine touchdowns after the first seven games. Before the Pittsburgh game, Owens says that one of the offensive coaches asked him to be very positive and supportive toward Donovan. Told him that “Donovan can get nervous and tight in big games.”
“If things got rough and Donovan got into a funk, he wanted me to be there for Donovan and help him get through it.”
Pittsburgh, that was the game the television cameras caught Owens screaming at McNabb on the sideline. Owens insists he was just shouting encouragement. And then, against the Giants, anger came rippling to the surface, and the split hit the fans.
On one play, Owens thought he was open and ignored. Stormed back to the huddle and squawked. Said, “I was open ... dude, you missed me.”
McNabb, according to Owens, replied, “Shut the bleep up.”
T.O. says that no quarterback has the right to treat a teammate like that. Says it was uncalled for. Waited for the clubhouse to empty after the game and then confronted McNabb. Says harsh words ensued. Says Dorsey Levens had to step between them. Says Donovan turned his back and walked away.
“I wanted Donovan and me to be like family,” Owens croons.
“And he turned his back on me.”
Says Donovan was envious of the love the town was showering on T.O. Do you get the feeling that Owens wasn’t content to rip apart last year’s Eagles team? That he wants to make it tougher on McNabb to heal the wounds this year, to squeeze the Preparation-H back into the tube?
Owens is an equal opportunity finger-pointer. Says owner Jeff Lurie told him he “loved” that tawdry “Monday Night Football” pregame skit with Nicollette Sheridan, of “Desperate Housewives.” Says the Eagles curbed their enthusiasm after ABC was flooded with complaints.
T.O. got his leg broken in the second Dallas game that season, on one of those cheap-shot horse-collar tackles. Says he understood when McNabb said afterward, “We’ve been to the NFC championship without T.O.” Then revisits it several times with an increasing screech of bitterness.
Owens gives the reader intimate details of his rehab, a proud recital of his courage in ignoring the doctor’s advice to return to action in Super Bowl XXXIX. But if you’re looking for the inside story of what went wrong in the final three minutes, you won’t find it here.
When Owens angrily says, on television, “I wasn’t the guy who got tired in the Super Bowl,” he reminds the reader over and over and over again that he never identified the guy who did get tired in the Super Bowl.
The book contains a long and devious story about switching agents to the notorious Rosenhaus, and how they were rebuffed by the Eagles when they sought to renegotiate. He decides to report to camp on time.
“I’ll be there,” he warned, “but I won’t be happy.”
He gets hurt, he heals, he practices, and then he balks at signing autographs in training camp. Exasperated, Reid tells him, “Just shut up.” Owens snarls back, feeling disrespected. He insists he wants to be treated like a “grown man” and continues to act like a petulant child, even after being sent home briefly.
The locker-room scuffle with Hugh Douglas? All Douglas’ fault. Says the “team ambassador” taunted him in the trainer’s room, accusing him of faking an injury. Owens got out of the tub, put on his slippers for better traction and confronted Douglas.
Ducked under a right hook, threw a punch to Hugh’s ample tummy, before teammates separated them. Says he did an incendiary interview right after that. Called the Eagles “classless” for not acknowledging a milestone on the stadium’s big screen, called McNabb a hypocrite.
The Eagles suspended him when he refused to read an apology to McNabb as part of his penance. All of this seems like old news except for the part about a phone conversation with Reid, prompted by a visit from Jeremiah Trotter, a staunch supporter.
“Coach Reid said that I should learn to focus on the positives of people, instead of the negatives,” is the way Owens remembers the dialogue. “He was right. I never let go of Donovan’s negatives, and I focused on them, disregarding the fact that he has a very fun, likable personality and wants to win.”
Owens urged Reid to bring him back to the team.
“I could tell that he was conflicted and wanted me back,” Owens says. Reid says he’ll call back. “He called back about an hour later,” Owens says. “I don’t know who he spoke to, but somebody killed it.”
They have changed the rules about suspending insubordinate players. Owens has changed teams, signing with some rag-tag team in Texas. Will probably wear a Trotter jersey when he comes here in October. Will probably do something outrageous when he scores a touchdown.
You just know, in your heart of hearts, T.O. will score a touchdown. One more dagger from that talented, but troubled wide receiver. Two-faced, but both of them handsome. There, if that doesn’t get me on the back cover, nothing will.
posted by The Gryphon at 6:26 PM
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