OPINION: O.J. was good at his job, better at fooling people

Apr. 11—In the years before cable television became widespread, Walter Cronkite was king. O.J. Simpson ranked as a prince, and he did so with far less exposure than Cronkite, who anchored the CBS Evening News.

Simpson in five or 10 electrifying seconds could awe 100,000 spectators in a stadium and millions more watching on national television. His talent in running with a football turned the uninitiated into fans and wowed the opposition.

"Earl Campbell could run over you or run away from you. O.J. Simpson could embarrass you," former Pittsburgh Steelers safety Mike Wagner once told me.

Simpson died Wednesday of prostate cancer at age 76, still a celebrity but far removed from being the prince of any city, much less a country. His acquittal in 1995 in the killings of his second wife, Nicole Brown Simpson, and Ron Goldman splintered the public along racial lines.

For the first time in his life, Simpson was denigrated by large numbers of spectators. Operators of exclusive golf clubs that once welcomed Simpson were relieved they no longer had to accommodate him. Simpson could only afford to play on public courses after incurring massive legal fees and losing his employability because of the murder charges.

Onetime admirers stopped reminiscing about Simpson winning the Heisman Trophy at the University of Southern California or becoming the first back in the NFL to rush for more than 2,000 yards in a 14-game season.

New-found critics spoke of Simpson being the most famous person ever to stand trial for murder and having the means to get away with it. Perhaps no shooting star ever fell so far so fast.

He nearly had it all, even after his football career ended in 1979. Simpson was a marketing machine, pitching Dingo boots, Hertz rental cars and many more products in print and on television. He also became a colorless color commentator on NFL broadcasts, timid about criticizing players.

For a time he looked like he had a future in acting. Simpson snagged a part in the television miniseries Roots, and he contended for a leading role in the 1981 movie Ragtime.

Competition for parts in movies was just as ferocious as football but more subjective. Simpson wasn't accustomed to rejection.

Through a combination of genetics and force of will, he overcame a difficult start in life. He had rickets as a child in a public housing project in San Francisco.

As his body healed, he discovered he possessed something rare — world-class speed. Simpson knew he would become a professional athlete. After a sluggish start with the Buffalo Bills, he developed into the most dangerous runner in pro football.

During that era, extraordinary athletes Jim Brown and Muhammad Ali immersed themselves in the fight against segregation. Ali also faced the possibility of a prison sentence for refusing induction to the Army, his means of protesting against the war in Vietnam. The U.S. Supreme Court finally ruled 8-0 for Ali on grounds that he followed his religious convictions.

Simpson didn't make any such waves during his playing days. He had neither the inclination nor the ability to speak on matters of social justice. While much of the nation rooted against Ali, Simpson built his brand.

At age 30, divorced and nearing the end of his football career, Simpson met Nicole Brown in a restaurant. She was an 18-year-old waitress. The name O.J. was instantly recognizable to millions, but it meant nothing to her.

A 12-year age difference would have dissuaded many men. Simpson, a celebrity since his days at USC, gravitated to younger women. He pursued Brown at full speed.

He also beat her, a case the Los Angeles Police Department shoved into a report but never showed any interest in solving. Claims of infidelity and more abuse finally led Brown to divorce Simpson.

Prosecutors say Simpson exploded in rage in 1994 and stabbed Brown and Ron Goldman to death outside her home. Goldman, 25, had happened by to return a pair of glasses Brown left in the restaurant where he worked.

Smooth lawyers, including Johnnie Cochran and F. Lee Bailey, secured not-guilty verdicts for Simpson. The defense attorneys did their jobs, which is far more than can be said for Los Angeles police detectives, prosecutors and Superior Court Judge Lance Ito.

So hungry for publicity was Ito that he let Simpson's televised trial drag for 266 days. The bizarre theme of the defense was police planted evidence to frame Simpson. But by the end of the trial, Bailey had one police detective invoking his Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination.

Jurors acquitted Simpson. They had no choice after the failings of police officers and prosecutors. Public opinion was another matter.

Simpson's standing plummeted. Nearly broke, he accosted dealers of sports memorabilia, supposedly because they stole goods from him.

A jury convicted Simpson of armed robbery and other felonies. He spent nine years in a Nevada prison. For the first time in 40 years, he disappeared from the headlines.

Until the slaughter of Brown and Goldman, no one projected a better image than Simpson. We thought we knew him, a fatal error.

Ringside Seat is an opinion column about people, politics and news. Contact Milan Simonich at msimonich@sfnewmexican.com or 505-986-3080.