It's tough to be inconspicuous when you're wearing a teal sport
coat, designer sunglasses, thick gold chains and a brimmed hat
straight from the Laurel & Hardy gift shop. But on March 25,
inconspicuous was what Dallas Cowboys receiver Michael Irvin was
trying to be as he moved through the basement corridors of the
Frank Crowley Criminal Courts Building after meeting with Dallas
Several days earlier Irvin had been arrested in a drug bust at
an Irving, Texas, hotel, where he and a former Cowboys teammate
were caught with cocaine, marijuana, assorted battery-operated
sex toys and two "self-employed models." Now Irvin and his
attorneys were trying to work out a deal with prosecutors under
which Irvin would avoid indictment on drug charges.
As Irvin passed two female security guards in a basement
hallway, he stopped briefly to grant their autograph requests.
"Boy," one of the women said, dragging the three-letter word
into three syllables, "I wish I'd been here when you came in,
because I'd have told you not to go through the metal detector.
I'd have frisked you myself!"
As I watched the two women fawn over a married man who had just
been caught--almost literally--with his pants down, I realized
why the justice system couldn't teach Irvin a lesson: He was
still fabulously popular because he was a Cowboy.