I like Prisco's take better. Ricky Williams is a coward. He didn't retire, he quit.
Free as a bird: Williams quits on his team for road less traveled
July 25, 2004
By Pete Prisco
SportsLine.com Senior Writer
Tell Pete your opinion!
They will applaud him and praise the fact that he walked away from the NFL on his terms, supposedly setting himself free from the shackles of fame -- and, let's not forget, fortune.
They will say Ricky Williams understands what life is all about, that football is just a game and not something all that important in a world where soldiers are being blown up on a regular basis in Iraq and starvation is ravaging countries throughout the world.
People will praise Ricky Williams' decision to leave the NFL, but does he deserve it?(Getty Images)
But some 24-year-old running back, just hoping for a chance to play in the NFL for one week, will pop on his TV Sunday morning and wake up to the news that Williams, a running back from the Miami Dolphins, is retiring and just get a sick feeling in his stomach.
How could he?
That player would do anything for one carry, and yet Williams is walking away a starting job and millions to be, in his words, free.
Williams notified the Dolphins that he is retiring from the NFL Friday, according to the Miami Herald. That newspaper would know since their lead columnist, the respected and well-read Dan Le Batard, is one of the few allowed in Williams' inner circle and the guy who reported the story Saturday.
Getting into that inner circle is said to be like breaking into the White House at midnight, but it also begs this question: Why would you want in?
If you looked up different in the NFL dictionary, Williams' picture would be next to the word. He is an enigma, a hard-running back who talked in a whisper and somehow seemed as if he was curling up in a fetal position every time someone stepped near his locker or asked to speak with him -- even after his much-publicized bout with a social disorder and the medical treatment he received for it.
What many NFL linebackers could not do, bring him to his knees, the sight of a camera or a writer invading his space often did.
Weirdo is a term some of his ex-teammates and coaches used when his name was brought up -- and that will be even more so now.
In telling the Herald why he is retiring, Williams said, "The people in Jamaica, living in these little tin shacks, they were the happiest people I've ever seen. This is an opportunity to be a real role model. Everyone wants freedom. Human beings aren't supposed to be controlled and told what to do. They're supposed to be given direction and a path. Don't tell me what I can and can't do."
Two things about that quote: Any Jamaican living in a shack who wouldn't trade places with Williams in an instant has been imbibing in too much of Bob Marley's favorite leaf. The second thing is that we're all told what we can and can't do. It's called laws and bosses and wives and parents.
The NFL said Williams couldn't smoke marijuana, so he reportedly did what he had to do to pass the tests -- drinking a masking agent, according to the Herald -- but he failed a test in 2002 and was facing a fine pending an appeal of a failed test late last season.
Now he is free to roll as many fat spliffs as he wants, provided the law doesn't find him. It is illegal, big guy. One more thing, Ricky: It takes green to buy the green, and leaving millions of salary behind isn't exactly a way to get the good stuff.
Williams told the Herald the only people who he has to be accountable to are his three kids. I bet they'll love it years from now when their friends tell them how their daddy walked away from NFL millions to smoke weed and hang out in tin shacks.
Lunacy.
But you can bet Williams will be praised in certain circles for standing up for his beliefs, not catering to the wants of others.
Free, baby.
Jim Brown, Barry Sanders and Robert Smith are all former NFL running backs who walked away from the game with plenty left to give. All three could be considered eccentric to some degree. Williams is friendly with Brown and he also was said to have had a recent conversation with Smith.
Oh, to be a fly on the wall to hear that one, two we're-smarter-than-the-rest-of-you-and-don't-need-this-mindless-game men trying to understand how so many other players put their lives into playing football.
Williams is also selfish. Making this kind of decision a week before the Dolphins were to open training camp makes anything Terrell Owens did seem trivial. This is a quitter, a guy who bailed on his teammates as they were readying to make a Super Bowl push. That's the ultimate insult.
Indications are that Dolphins coach Dave Wannstedt is furious. Wouldn't you be? His job is on the line and suddenly his star running back decides he'd rather sit in a circle with his legs crossed listening to poetry and clicking his fingers at every line he likes?
The Dolphins tailored their offense to Williams and now he runs over them as if they were a seven-year old trying to tackle his big butt. Miami's best option is to play Travis Minor, a fourth-year player from Florida State, who is little more than a third-down back.
Heck, if Williams had made his decision a couple of days earlier the Dolphins could have made a run at Eddie George. But he couldn't even do that for them to maybe make it a little easier.
Williams had three years left on his contract, with base salaries of $3.75 million in 2004, $3.74 million in 2005 and $3.5 million in 2006. The contract also included incentives that could have added more money, so Williams is walking away from $10 to $12 million.
But look at the bright side: At least now he's free. No more being told what plays to run. No more being forced to deal with the media and the spotlight and the constant adulation from fans. Wouldn't you walk away from $10 million and never having to make a reservation for a restaurant table in South Beach, with a bevy of models eyeing your every move to be free of a game that gave you the chance to be free?
As one of Williams' former coaches said recently, "He's as weird as they come."
Ricky W means Ricky Weirdo.
But at least he's free.
Free to see the world.
Free to do what he wants.
Free to put this mindless game away for good.
You can bet there's a young running back somewhere shaking his head wondering how Williams could give this all away and he can't even get a chance. Wasting God's gifts is a sad thing, but it's even more troubling to those who didn't quite get the full compliment, say a runner who might be a half a step slow or a tad too small.
Williams had it all, and now he's throwing it all away.
Is that really something that should be applauded?
