Stay Classy, Kansas City: Andre Rison

Welcome back one last time for the concluding segment of our "Stay Classy, Kansas City series. It's been fun and educational, but it's time we put this feature in the bag, and move on to classier topics. We haven't covered all the classy professional athletes that have donned a Kansas City uniform, but we have, however, saved the best for last: Andre Rison. It was a sad day when the Chiefs cut Rison, namely because since then, the sports section of The Kansas City Star has been pretty dull. But there were good, good times while he was here. Join us as we examine a mere few, after the jump.

The first interesting piece of trivia regarding Rison's pro career was that, the Colts, after taking him in the first round, shipped him to Atlanta in some odd-fangled deal that gave Indianapolis a guy named Jeff George. Not only had George wrecked the buffet the Falcons, it was there that Rison would meet Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes, who would show her affection for the wide out by burning down his house in 1994. Rison would later return the favor by almost marrying her.



Rison's next stop would be Cleveland, where, as a Brown, he kind of sucked. Fans didn't appreciate his poor production, and when it was announced that Art Modell would be moving the Browns to Baltimore, Rison had some choice words with fans after being booed. Courtesy of Cleveland's The Plain Dealer reporter Mary Kay Cabot, Rison offered his insight:

After the game, Rison, who was booed several times, went off on the fans. "I got booed; we all got booed," said Rison, who mentioned offensive chants directed at Modell and himself. "They were booing after we completed a pass. Frankly, I'm ready to get the hell out of here. Because I don't deserve it nor do the other players.

"We didn't make the [expletive] move; so for all the booers, [expletive] you too. I'll be glad when we get to Baltimore, if that's the case. We don't have any home-field advantage. I've never been booed at home. Baltimore's our home. Baltimore, here we come."

Oh, and it was quite a party. Keenan McCardell and Pepper Johnson were there. So was Vinny Testaverde. Well, until Bill Belichick threw him under the bus anyway. From there Rison became a Jaguar for a year. Then a Packer for a year, where he managed to pick up a Super Bowl ring, and then he signed on in Kansas City for a few seasons, where things got really good.

Sure. He played some football, and caught a few touchdown passes, but this was the tail end of the Marty regime and the beginning of the Gunther era when, if things weren't painfully mediocre, they were bad. Most of his issues took place toward the end of his tenure in Kansas City, but they were awesome, nonetheless.

Like the time he rented some stereo equipment from a local business and didn't pay for it. Or the time he borrowed money from his elderly neighbor, and didn't pay it back. There's the bad-checks-written-to-the-jewelry store charges that caught up with him. There's the matter of back child support, which, if he would've addressed it early on, he might not have wound up in such a financial shitstorm.

And of course, there's the River Falls, Wisconsin bar fight episode, where he gave a fake name -- his alias apparently -- to the police. That one landed him in jail, a place with which he would become all too familiar.

And that was the end of the line for the Chiefs. They -- though they claimed the issues were unrelated -- released Rison after this one. But that wouldn't end his troubles. As an Oakland Raider, Rison would -- shocker -- have to play the Chiefs twice, and -- hey -- them games ain't both gonna be in Kansas City. Rison and the Raiders made arrangements for turning himself in for a warrant out for his arrest related to the stereo equipment charges, and he was out in time to play. This contest came after the game in Oakland, one in which Rison caught the flukiest touchdown pass I'd seen to date: Raiders (and former Chiefs) quarterback Rich Gannon gunned a pass from the pocket to an Oakland receiver in the end zone, only to watch it bounce off the receiver's forearms, and miraculously land in Rison's.

After his short spell with the Raiders, Rison and Lopes were to wed, a celebration about which ESPN Page 2's Jim Caple had to something to say. Strangely (or not), the wedding was called off. The next step for Rison was to face a suspension from the NFL for a repeated substance-abuse violation, which, sadly was followed up by the news of Lopes' tragic death, perhaps causing the journeyman wideout to drift off of the grid. Out of pro football, he would lay low for a while, and in 2004, he thought he'd give football Canadia-style a shot, as he inked a deal with the CFL's Toronto Argonauts. He didn't earn very much money, and he didn't play for very long. Turns out he had a previous engagement, one known as jail.

This time he was in for a month, before managing to cough up $10,000 in back child support, but his baby-daddy debts proved to be too big for the former receiver. In 2006, he was ordered to pay some more to the mothers of his kids, and just last year, he was forced into bankruptcy.

So it hasn't been easy for Rison, but he hasn't made it easy on himself, it would seem. He did, however make it easy for us to see just how simple, yet difficult it is to be a classy, classy guy. And, hey -- there's still his Web site, where I encourage each and every reader to go, and join the 100s of people that think Rison belongs in Canton.