A Trojan Who’s Fallen on His Shield

A funny thing about drug use is how, when it takes you down, there’s usually not a lot of dignity involved. It’s life’s banana peel, without the laughs.

When Charles White was arrested last Friday, charged with being under the influence of a controlled substance, he was wandering in an empty field, screaming incoherently and brandishing a trash can lid.

Charles White, the greatest USC runner of them all--you could look it up--had transformed himself into a tragic parody of Tommy Trojan. The warrior with his shield. Don Quixote without a cause.

It was ironic, because Charles White and Tommy Trojan, in physique and in spirit, were brothers. Brave, cocky, tough brothers. At USC, White never outran, outdanced or overpowered an opponent. He wore them down with his legs and his heart.

“The toughest man I’ve ever been around,” said John Robinson, White’s coach at USC.

You don’t forget a guy like that. Two summers ago, White’s pro football career was over. Too many injuries, too many drugs, too few yards. The Cleveland Browns shook his hand and cut him loose.

“I need a job,” said White, who has a wife and five children, and who had invested much of his football earnings in cocaine.

John Robinson was coaching the Rams. In a sport beset by frequent and ugly drug scandals, Robinson’s Rams had been clean. He was proud of this. Signing Charlie White would be a risk. Robinson was sure Charlie would be a leader, but which way would he lead?

The Rams weren’t exactly desperate for a backup running back with a lot of miles on life’s odometer. Had he declined to pick up White, Robinson could have justified the decision, to everyone but himself.

“I have extreme respect and affection for Charles White,” Robinson said two years ago when the Rams signed White. “I kind of loved Charlie.”

The feeling seemed mutual. White worked hard and became a valuable member of the team. In limited time he performed well, with occasional jolts of the old brutal brilliance. And the guys on the team liked Charlie and admired his attitude. That’s worth a lot to a coach trying to build a winning team feeling.

This season had the potential for surprise. In one 1987 football preview magazine, Charles White is referred to as a “fading backup.” But the Rams saw it differently. They seemed to think that White, at 29, his physical and spiritual problems seemingly behind him, would be going through his real rookie season. He would back up Eric Dickerson, and would likely receive significant playing time.

“Charlie is special,” Gil Haskell, Ram running back coach, said this week. “He’s unbelievably tough. I’d like to seem him go against Sugar Ray Leonard.”

For the first time since the glory days at USC, Charlie White would be a vital part of a team with a chance to go all the way. Robinson and his coaches planned to play White most or all of the exhibition game last Sunday.

But Friday afternoon Robinson got a phone call. White had been arrested, staggering and babbling, waving a trash can lid.

So Robinson faced another decision on Charlie White. Assuming that the league, the law and the doctors give the OK for White to come back to the Rams, does Robinson give the man another shot?

It was a tough call. What is White’s credibility worth now? For Charlie, was this a minor slip or a major fall? How far do you stretch friendship and compassion for one man at the possible expense of 44 others?

Robinson elected to bring White back for one more try, but to trust a lab rather than his own instincts. White will be tested daily. One more strike and Charlie is out.

This was more than a simple personnel decision. This one is deep. Charlie was the star of Robinson’s first recruiting class at USC. With his guts, White helped make Robinson a famous football coach. White also got into his serious drug abuse at USC, and although nobody blames that on Robinson, a college coach never fully escapes blame or credit for what his players do.

On the credit side, Robinson took a kid from a San Fernando Valley ghetto, gave him a football, channeled and nurtured his spirit and strength, and helped him develop into the biggest star in the game.

So in a sense, Robinson is with the Rams because of Charlie White and White is with the Rams because of John Robinson.

Their destinies, as they say in the cheap novels, seem to be intertwined.

And so the story continues. The plot is intriguing, but the moral is fuzzy. Maybe it has something to do with drugs and friendship and loyalty, but clear-cut morals of stories are hard to come by these days.