Sometimes a jerk

Let’s talk about “crazy.” Some well-meaning and thoughtful people would like to see us phase out the word on the grounds that it is demeaning to those suffering from mental illness. They have a point, but there is a need for language to describe the ridiculous and absurd phenomena we encounter in the world, and “crazy”—which derives from the Middle English “crasen,” meaning to crush or become cracked (see “crazed glass”)— seems useful in describing a certain kind of human behavior.

When someone does something that seems nonsensical and against their own interest, “crazy,” with connotations of structural fragility and interior fissuredness, can serve.

We shouldn’t casually label people as crazy, even when we don’t intend it as a serious diagnosis. It’s rude and demeaning and a bad habit. But maybe it’s OK to say that certain actions are.

Last Sunday, Antonio Brown, a highly paid wide receiver for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, took off his jersey and shoulder pads late in the third quarter of a game against the New York Jets. He stripped off his undershirt and gloves and threw them into the stands, then waved to fans and jogged through the end zone off the field at MetLife Stadium. As he left, he lifted two fingers in the air, the “peace out” gesture.

You have probably seen the video. It was crazy.

Chris Myers of Fox Sports tweeted that stadium security said a still shirtless Brown came off the field and immediately got into a police car which drove him to Newark Liberty International Airport, where he presumably caught a commercial flight home.

While that scene would have to be included in any eventual movie based on Brown’s life, a photo snapped by a fan showed Brown—fully dressed and with his rolling suitcase by his side—tapping on his phone outside MetLife, apparently summoning an Uber driver. (There’s another unconfirmed story that Brown took an Uber all the way back to Tampa Bay, but he was spotted at Brooklyn’s Barclay Center taking in the Nets-Grizzlies NBA game the night after his meltdown. We are the narrative-craving animal.)

Apparently what happened was that the coach of the Bucs, Bruce Arians, ordered Brown into the game. Brown insisted he was too hurt to play; he’s been dealing with a nagging ankle injury much of the season. Maybe Arians insisted. Maybe he gave Brown some sort of ultimatum. Maybe he told him if he wasn’t going to play he was off the team and should leave the field.

That’s what Brown is saying. That’s the rationale he was putting out last week—he didn’t quit; the Buccaneers essentially fired him because he was hurt on the job. (He also inadvertently tweeted out his bank account and routing numbers while trying to make a point about how the personal trainer of Tom Brady, the Tampa Bay quarterback who was probably the prime reason that Brown was playing for the Bucs this season, was somehow trying to scam him. He quickly deleted that tweet, an act that argues for his competency.)

We don’t know how much of this is true. Brown hadn’t practiced since the Wednesday before the game because his ankle was injured, and Arians certainly knew that. But Brown

had played in the first half of the game; he’d caught three passes for 26 yards in the first half.

It’s also interesting to note that Brown was reasonably close to a $1 million performance bonus. A good-to-great performance in the final game of the season would have triggered it.

It is certainly conceivable that the coach and the player didn’t agree on how serious the player’s injury was. It is certainly possible that a football coach would urge one of his better players to play football. (The Bucs were trailing at the time, though they eventually won the game.)

But Brown could have walked quietly to the locker room without undressing or playing to the crowd. People would have noticed, but both team and player could have preserved options and dignity. Brown might still be on the team, available for its playoff run. But his dramatic actions essentially set his pro football career on fire. Again.

Brown has a history of behaving erratically. Among the least serious of his offenses was providing the Buccaneers with a fake covid vaccine card, an act which earned him a three-game suspension earlier this season.

Some people believe he is seriously troubled, some speculate that he is suffering from chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), a progressive brain condition thought to be caused by repeated blows to the head and repeated episodes of concussion. A lot of Internet doctors even point to a specific play in 2016 where Brown was leveled by Cincinnati Bengals linebacker Vontaze Burfict in 2016.

They say Brown hasn’t been the same since that hit.

Really? If you look at Brown’s backstory, two things are evident. He developed his talent to become one of the best football players of his era. He always had problems conforming to societal expectations. He’s often exhibited what the authority figures of my youth called a “bad attitude.”

Even before he played high school football, Brown displayed narcissistic tendencies. Three years ago, when he was accused of rape by an old friend (a civil settlement was reached in 2021), his stepfather, who helped raise him between the ages of 5 and 17, said he knew Brown to be “very abusive to women … [Brown] just feels like he can have whatever he wants. He’s just empowered that way. So it doesn’t surprise me that this kind of allegation came out about him.’’

Brown’s troubles didn’t start with that hit.

And they aren’t necessarily indicative of anything more than an inflated ego and sense of entitlement. That’s not to say he’s not suffering from some mental health problem, only that we aren’t in any position to diagnose a disorder.

Sure, he hurts sometimes. Everybody suffers, but most of us are able to handle our business. This is how the world works; nobody cares about whether their doctor or bus driver or teacher is having a bad day. Bad behavior is bad behavior. It’s not always a symptom of some underlying psychological or emotional disorder. If Brown has unmet mental health needs, he’s got the resources to get help. Failure to get help doesn’t necessarily mean he’s mentally ill. Maybe he’s a solipsistic jerk. Which is why he does crazy things.