Roy Exum
The chances are good you never heard of the Persian Warriors and the odds are even better that you don’t want to. The Warriors were a street gang that ran out of the Portero Hill slums in San Francisco.
There was a young kid that used to run with them the others called “Waterhead” because he was born with a disease they used to call “rickets.” As an infant, his legs were so bowed and mis-shapen that his grandmother actually took the curtain rods down each night to brace his legs while he slept.
The first time “Waterhead” ever went to jail was when he was running with the Persian Warriors. Tomorrow he’ll be arraigned again in Las Vegas. You know him as O.J. Simpson.
Of all the great tragedies that have occurred in my lifetime, his story touches the closest to home because during his zenith, I was a sports writer and Orenthal – his given name – was one of those most often on our pages.
Way back when, Orenthal had just gotten released from a youth center in California and part of the deal was that he had to have adult supervision every afternoon.
So his grandmother, the same one that would tie his hightops on backwards every night trying so desperately to straighten his feet, worked it where he could be the manager of the junior high football team.
After about three days, “Waterhead” saw that he was better than those who were playing and wanted to give it a go. Trouble was, there wasn’t a helmet to be found that could fit on his big head.
So the Persian Warriors, resourceful to be sure, came up with a helmet large enough when the San Francisco School District could not and, within a week, the other boys on the team knew better than to call him “Waterhead” any longer so they tabbed Orenthal James Simpson with his initials.
In his day he was the most electrifying football player I have ever seen. He played at Galileo High, but his grades were so shabby he had to go to San Francisco City College for a couple of years before he could get into Southern Cal.
At USC he was so good that during his senior year – get this - the Eagles and the Steelers played in what was called by the pundits as “The O.J. Bowl” because the loser would get the right to draft “The Juice.”
As things went, the Bills were even worse so O.J. ended up getting drafted by Buffalo in the first round and became the first NFL player ever to rush for over 2,000 yards in a single season. I remember Bill Cosby once saying, “O.J. has the ability to split himself in two – the half with the ball keeps going while you hold the other half!”
Did you know O.J. Simpson still holds the Heisman record? Of all who have won college football’s most noble prize, never before nor since has the voting margin been as great as it was for O.J. in 1968. And he’s still 14th on the NFL’s all-time rushing list.
You know the rest. You well remember “The Trial of the Century,” the slow-speed chase of that white Ford Bronco, and the endless speculation that still lingers over who killed Nichole and Ronnie Goldman.
Tomorrow, instead of a glove, there will be a tape of the casino heist in Las Vegas and, thanks to the Internet, you can even hear it now if you are of the mind, but I’m going to pass, just like I did when the murder trial was carried live on the national networks.
I remember when O.J. was the toast instead of being toasted.
It is quite simply one of the great tragedies I have ever known and watching as it unfolds is almost unbearable.
royexum@aol.com