Jackson Will Be a Problem, Not Part of the Solution

What we need are answers.

What we get is the Rev. Jesse Jackson.

What should happen now that eight young football players--one NFL all-pro, three from top-20 college programs, three teenagers from high school teams and most recently an eighth-grader--have died either during or shortly after football workouts in the last seven months is a gathering of resources, a sharing of information, a concerted effort by coaches, trainers, doctors, players, parents, the NCAA, the universities, the school boards and the fans to find out what has gone so very wrong.

What we get is Jackson talking about player unions and equating college football with those who picked cotton in the fields during slavery.

While Jackson has been doing his talking, another young man has died. Jamarious Berez Bennett collapsed at football practice in Monticello, Ga., Wednesday. A college athletes’ union would not have helped this 13-year-old.

Maybe Jackson wants only to find answers, to see if there is a common thread in the deaths of Korey Stringer of the Minnesota Vikings; Rashidi Wheeler of Northwestern; Eraste Autin of Florida; Devaughn Darling of Florida State; Travis Stowers of Clinton Central (Ind.) High; and Drew Privett and Nick Allen of the North Jackson (Ala.) High.

But when Jackson got involved with the family of Wheeler, who apparently died of an asthma attack at football practice two weeks ago, the attention has gone away from finding answers and to Jackson.

When Jackson comes to a cause, too often the cause suddenly matters less than he does.

When he showed up at the Northwestern memorial service for Wheeler, and when lawyer Johnnie L. Cochran Jr. arrived soon after, the chances of cooperation went way down and the chances of lawsuits went way up.

When the Rev. Jackson attaches himself to a situation, race also seems to arrive with him.

Four players who have died since May are white.

Jackson didn’t attend the funerals of any of those young men or comfort their families.

If there is any good to come from the deaths of eight young men, it would be the chance for a coming together of people to talk.

Was it heat or dietary supplements or workouts too strenuous or bodies too big or too acclimated in our spoiled times to air-conditioning or improper supervision of practice or something else we haven’t considered?

One thing that didn’t kill these players was their race. Yes, African-Americans have a significantly higher number of asthmatics than whites, but it was Wheeler’s asthma that mattered on the field and not his race. Yet Jackson says:

“In this whole athletic industry, everyone gets money except the generator--the athlete. The coaches, the athletic department, the state, the city, the vendors--they all get paid. The generators? They’re the least secured.

“We’ve gone from picking cotton balls to picking footballs, baseballs and basketballs.”

Maybe this is the wrong interpretation, but when Jackson says “we” and “picking cotton balls,” it sounds as if he is equating slavery with playing football, baseball and basketball.

It sounds as if he has paid no attention to the deaths of Autin, Stowers, Privett and Allen.

When Jackson puts his arm around O.J. Simpson attorney Cochran, the chance for open communication disappears.

In Indiana, where Stowers, 17, collapsed on the same day Stringer did, where Stowers registered the same 108-degree body temperature as Stringer, coaches, players, parents, school officials, have closed ranks.

Jackson and Cochran did not go to Alabama in May and June when two players from the same small high school in Stevenson died within a month.

There has been no sighting of Jackson and Cochran at the University of Florida, where Autin, a freshman, died at practice before he could ever put on a Gator uniform.

Jackson wants to make the issue the NCAA and whether college athletes are being mistreated. That is an issue worth talking about.

But it isn’t the issue now.

Jackson wants to compare college athletes to 18-year-olds of the 1960s who could be drafted to fight in Vietnam but who couldn’t vote.

“It’s rather similar,” he says. “Eighteen-year-olds in universities should be allowed to vote on the guidelines of their involvement in these games, which are a type of war.”

Actually, it’s not similar at all. Being drafted and shipped off to Vietnam weren’t choices. A college athlete does not have to accept a scholarship. A college athlete does not have to play football.

But that also is not the point here.

The point is that deaths are happening, in greater numbers than ever, to pros, college, high school and even grade school players. The NCAA had nothing to do with Stringer’s death.

We need the high school federations and the medical organizations, the athletic conferences and the NFL to talk, to share information. We need the emergency medical personnel who reached each of these fallen athletes to speak up. We need the coroner’s reports for all these football players.

Jackson had a news conference Thursday in Chicago with the Collegiate Athletes Coalition (CAC) and the president of the United Steelworkers of America. The CAC was started in January by a group of past and present UCLA football players.

CAC chairman Ramogi Huma, a former UCLA linebacker, wants safety standards and expanded health and life insurance benefits for athletes.

Admirable goals, all. But more health and life insurance would not have saved Wheeler’s life. NCAA safety standards would not have saved Stringer’s life.

And right now, the point is to save lives

Jackson is not helping. Talking about picking cotton and picking footballs is hurting. When he speaks, too many others become quiet. This time, he needs to be quiet and listen so that all of us might have a chance to learn.

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Diane Pucin can be reached at diane.pucin@latimes.com.