No. 27's shirt sad relic of a hero lost

FILE - In this May 23, 2014, file photo, Janay Rice, left, looks on as her husband, Baltimore Ravens running back Ray Rice, speaks to the media during a news conference in Owings Mills, Md. A law enforcement official says he sent a video of Ray Rice punching his then-fiancee to an NFL executive five months ago, while league officers have insisted they didn't see the violent images until this week. The person played The Associated Press a 12-second voicemail from an NFL office number on April 9 confirming the video arrived. A female voice expresses thanks and says: "You're right. It's terrible." (AP Photo/Patrick Semansky, File)
FILE - In this May 23, 2014, file photo, Janay Rice, left, looks on as her husband, Baltimore Ravens running back Ray Rice, speaks to the media during a news conference in Owings Mills, Md. A law enforcement official says he sent a video of Ray Rice punching his then-fiancee to an NFL executive five months ago, while league officers have insisted they didn't see the violent images until this week. The person played The Associated Press a 12-second voicemail from an NFL office number on April 9 confirming the video arrived. A female voice expresses thanks and says: "You're right. It's terrible." (AP Photo/Patrick Semansky, File)

Prior to February's domestic violence episode that was exposed in last week's video revelation, few Arkansans probably knew of Ray Rice.

But as a Baltimore native and a devoted Ravens fan, running back Rice had long been a part of my life. He's had a leading role in every fall/early winter Sunday afternoon -- and occasional Monday and Thursday nights -- for my last six years.

While I respected him as a football player, I admired him as a man. Rice always seemed to be a person of character and conducted himself with class, participating in many community outreach events and speaking out against (of all things) bullying. He was a hero to a city that needs heroes. Baltimore regarded him as neighbor, a friend -- family.

And Rice, who named his only daughter Rayven, was beloved by Ravens fans, a relatively tiny, but tight lot. Much of Maryland roots for the Washington Redskins over the newer Ravens, who joined the National Football League in a 1995 expansion of teams. This was after Baltimore was left teamless by the Colts' cold 1983 departure. Ravensnation, as it's called, revered him.

Last Christmas I bought Dad a Rice No. 27 jersey (which Dad, in true frugal fatherly form, did not put on or even remove the tags from).

Less than two months later, I started to question the purchase when news broke that Rice had been arrested, charged and released from jail on simple assault charges, along with then-fiancee-now-wife Janay Palmer (her charges were dropped), after an altercation at an Atlantic City casino.

I had other questions too as charges -- based on footage of Rice knocking Palmer unconscious before dragging her from the elevator -- were upped to aggravated assault after the case was presented by prosecutors to a grand jury.

Ray?

That Ray? (Of course, the Ravens have had another Ray. With a criminal past.)

Ray Rice?

Really?

It didn't fit the picture of the man I had held in high esteem. But that picture -- and some naivete -- was shattered last week upon viewing the violent footage released, not by law enforcement, the team or the NFL (leading to cover-up conspiracies), but by celebrity news website TMZ.com.

It was a shocking reminder that public personas don't always match the private individual. People aren't always what they project. People snap. And people, even seemingly good ones, can commit atrocious acts.

Our champion was merely a flagrantly flawed human, one who had failed his wife, child, team, league, city and self with a terrible transgression. (To those surmising he must be a repeat offender, there has been no proof -- at least none that TMZ.com had released by press time.)

Rice -- who I will pray for, along with his wife, who I fear is victimized further with each video airing -- will have plenty of time to reflect on his actions. He has been released by the Ravens and suspended indefinitely by the NFL, as those entities answer for lapses in the investigation and penalty processes.

Here's hoping that the real issue here -- domestic violence -- doesn't get lost in tracks-covering and finger-pointing.

And so far, perhaps it hasn't.

Since last week, #WhyIStayed and #WhyILeft hashtags accompanying stories of domestic violence have gone viral on Twitter, opening an online conversation about the issue.

And the National Domestic Violence Hotline last week reported an 84 percent increase in phone calls, according to The Huffington Post, which quoted hot line CEO Katie Ray-Jones as saying, "We had an outpouring of women saying, 'Oh my God, I didn't realize this happened to other people.' They thought they were living a life that was very unique to them."

To reach the National Domestic Violence Hotline, visit thehoteline.org or call (800) 799-7233.

P.S. Dad still has not worn the jersey. Dad has no plans to wear the jersey. But Dad is keeping the jersey (not turning it in for a replacement offered by the Ravens or for a free promotional pizza at a restaurant). In true frugal fatherly form, he theorizes it might be worth something someday.

Email:

jchristman@arkansasonline.com

What's in a Dame is a weekly report from the woman 'hood.

Style on 09/16/2014

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