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there isn’t enough common sense left in the United States to fill a bath tub.

Here are a few things that just leave me shaking my head:

I follow football, during the season. I’m one of the only guys I know who actually likes Dennis Miller providing color on Monday Night Football (on an out-of-bounds tackle: "That hit was later than Godot."), and I go to a couple of Niners games every year.

I read the papers.

This past week, Oakland Raiders defensive tackle Darrell Russell (who, I will note, has been a Pro Bowler for two of his four years as a professional ballplayer) was suspended for four games because he violated the NFL’s politically-correctly-termed "substance abuse policy." Now, I’ve seen a little of how the world works, and I know this has to be his second offense, because the first only carries a fine, but I sort of won dered as I read the news what Russell was thinking. I mean, the NFL has bagged you on a drug violation once, and now you’re in their crosshairs for ever. A player has to submit to drug tests both during playing months and in the off-season. That’s it; you better get used to it. So you’d have to be mental to have so much as a Tylenol without clearing it with your team doc tor, or you’d end up suspended for fully one-quarter of the season. Now, I was having a bit of a disconnect with this one, because Russell cer tainly seemed like he was walking the straight and narrow. He’s playing superior ball in one of the world’s most punishing sports for a team known for its brutality on the field. A guy lighting up like Jeff Spicoli just isn’t going to be playing at the top of his game on Sunday. Russell’s a team leader; has the respect of the local sports media. Has his own charitable foundation, even. So what happened?

Seems this guy is getting screwed out of twenty-five per cent of his pay check because he didn’t return a phone message fast enough.

Apparently, he wasn’t home when the NFL brownshirts called to arrange the drug testing, and then went to practice at his job, figuring they’d sort it at the field. After all, he’s passed hundreds of drug tests since his initial violation…

Boom. Sit down for four games, pal.

Of course there’s more to the story; there always is. But you know what Trace Armstrong, president of the damn player’s own union said, when

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