Now That's A Professional Athlete

Earlier in the week I bagged on new Bronco Correll Buckhalter for allowing himself to become entangled in a drug dealer's legal proceedings. "C-Buck," as the under-40 tool contingent at Invesco is bound to call him, was heard on wiretaps ordering up vials of green, and the dealer told a cop he sold to the erstwhile Eagle.

While Buckhalter is not charged in the trial, prosecutors will never hesitate to drag the name of a quasi-celebrity into court. It gets the prosecutor's name in the paper as well.

So the alleged dopeslinger testified yesterday, the splendidly labeled Styles N. Beckles. Styles stymied the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania when he denied all the shenanigans to which he'd previously copped. Specifically, Styles took a hard 180 when asked about sourcing Buckhalter with his ganja.

Sounds like a few of Pat Bowlen's benjamins made their way into an unmarked envelope on the outskirts of Philly. I, for one, could not be prouder.

This is how pro athletes are supposed to operate. You pay off people that can embarrass you. There are many, many red-eyed Buckhalters out there that we never hear about. Why? Because an arrangement just like this is made--you take the fall, you get paid, I stay out of the few remaining newspapers still operating.

This is why Barry Bonds is still a free man. Greg Anderson will someday live a life of luxury, once he's freed from his incarceration. If Travis Henry had a brain in his head, he'd have actually paid his hush money child support and the news of his rampant insemination might have stayed underground.

This is Big Time behavior, Buckhalter. Bronco Nation applauds your resourcefulness.