Most of my childhood years were spent living in the Houston area before the Oilers moved to Nashville and became the Tennessee Titans. In those days, Warren Moon was just about the biggest sports star in town (with the possible exception of Hakeem Olajuwon). Even when the Oilers weren’t very good, he still put up amazing statistics each year. He eventually became the first black quarterback to be inducted in to the Pro Football Hall of Fame.
Anyway, aside from being really successful and famous, Warren Moon also happened to live pretty close to where we lived. I distinctly remember passing him in the aisle at Randall’s when I was there grocery shopping with my mom. He was always polite and he would smile at me even though I was way too shy to say anything to him. I also distinctly remember him attending one of my little league baseball games because his local chocolate chip cookie company sponsored our team. I idolized Warren Moon. Not only was he a great football player, he also seemed to be a really great guy.
Imagine my dismay when, in 1995, I found out that Warren Moon was arrested for a violent confrontation with his wife. From his Wikipedia article: She told detectives that he had slapped her, choked her, and chased her when she fled in a car. In a July 21 press conference, Warren apologized for a “tremendous mistake” and said he would seek counseling.
Even though he was acquitted on the charges of misdemeanor assault (largely because his wife protected him in her testimony), I just can’t look at Warren Moon anymore in the same way I did when I was young. Thinking about it now and typing all this out reminds me of how disappointed I was to lose one of my personal heroes. Forget about steroids, let’s demonize the athletes who commit domestic violence and sexual assault. I’m looking at you, Ben Roethlisberger.
