Lighthouse Point resident Plaxico Burress is, like many of us in these in these troubled economic times, looking for a job. The young man, whose maturity has been cruelly stunted by accommodating bosses and millions of dollars, lost his job last year after he shot himself in the foot, figuratively, by shooting himself in the thigh, literally. This accident resulted in criminal charges.
That was in New York City, and like many denizens of that unsleeping metropolis, Burress relies upon a home in South Florida to slow an otherwise hectic life. In his case, the stress comes from a job catching an oblong leather ball and running toward painted grass as muscle-bound men try to knock him down.
And though his task here has been simply to keep himself calm, balanced, and good-humored -- signs to a prospective employer that he is not the overgrown child his legal record would imply -- it is hard to suspend the instincts that he relies upon to perform his job well. Such that even on Broward County freeways, Burress finds himself darting between lanes of cars like they are so many phantom defenders.
Now we learn that only a few weeks after that incident, there came another -- again, the reckless driving. But should we surprised that an offensive player exhibits an offensive driving style? Or that his instinct to dread and loathe muscle-bound adversaries would not be triggered by the appearance of a member of the Broward Sheriff's Office, a muscular team in its own right?
Of course not, Burress and his agent are prepared to argue. And with the loyalty we always extend to our neighbors, we wish Burress well in his pursuit of employment. Indeed, in an economy where so many skilled people are out of work, Burress' efforts to rejoin the American workforce may prove to be either an inspiring or (perish the thought) discouraging episode that defines this period in our nation's history.
