The two lives of Jason Taylor show in sharper-than-ever contrast now, sequins and shoulder pads.
On Monday the Dolphins reconvened to begin their latest three days of offseason OTAs, or organized team activities, but absent Mr. Taylor, who of course was on the other side of the country competing (ludicrous as this once might have sounded and still does to some) in the finals of television's Dancing With the Stars.
Tuesday finds the team back on the field. Except Taylor, who'll be back inside your TV anxiously waiting to learn if his season of sambas, cha-chas and foxtrots has been good enough to waltz away with the dancing crown.
Wednesday, the Dolphins end their latest round of football preparation, but again sans Taylor, who hopes to be making the morning-after talk-show rounds that day with dance partner Edyta Sliwinska, basking in triumph, luxuriating in swelling stardom.
Meanwhile, back at Dolphins headquarters in Davie, club high-potentate Bill Parcells quietly bristles and boils, stews and seethes, over Taylor's continued absence -- over the very idea that a player on his watch might choose ballroom dancing over Tuna's definition of dedication. And get away with it!
What galls Parcells (picture the face of a man biting a lemon) is that a ''Parcells guy'' does not prance or pirouette in ruffled sleeves.
Miami's macho new boss once referred to a former player as ''she'' for far less.
The Taylor-Tuna tiff has been a slowly mushrooming South Florida sports drama for months now, and it is time to call it what it is:
Ridiculous. Embarrassing. Infantile.
PARCELLS IS ANTAGONIST
Be clear that the villain in this soap is Parcells, whose enmity over this situation would be comical if it weren't so sad. So small.
Taylor has every right to enjoy (literally enjoy) a semblance of an offseason. Everything to this point has been voluntary, anyway, as much of a joke as that is in the modern NFL. Neither the team's conditioning program nor its minicamp/OTAs have been mandatory. Nothing until a June 6-8 minicamp is.
I'd feel differently, and Parcells might have cause to, if Taylor were a rookie or young guy, or a loafer with a history of conditioning issues. He isn't. Quite the reverse.
Few players in the NFL have served one franchise longer or with more distinction than Taylor, but the thanks Taylor gets from his new boss is nearly six months of cold shoulder. That's insulting. That's dumb of Parcells.
Taylor said on ESPN's Sunday Conversation he is in ''five times'' better shape right now than when he was NFL Defensive Player of the Year in 2006. Forgive him the hyperbole. Now make a short list of Dolphin players you needn't worry in the least about for 2008, either from a production or conditioning standpoint, and who do you rank above Taylor?
Waiting. Waiting.
Answer: Nobody.
But this is the guy Parcells treats like some undrafted free agent who slept through his first team meeting?
I don't mind Parcells not talking to the media. I sort of like it, actually. Because if I've learned anything in a long career it is that banality, disingenuousness and obfuscation are poor substitutes for silence.
The problem isn't Bill not talking to me. The problem is him not talking to his best player, a Dolphin loyalist who has done no wrong.
You show your biggest, most popular star and top defender (by far) blatant disrespect because he had the temerity to stay in shape his way this spring instead of your way? Guess you showed him who's boss, huh Tuna!
SECOND CAREER
Taylor, for sure, has self-serving motives for being on Dancing With the Stars. He wants to grow his celebrity with a future in entertainment in mind. So what! Good for him. The phrase ''dumb jock'' might slowly slip from the lexicon if more athletes planned as long or as well for their life beyond sports.
Taylor soon will turn 34 and wants to get out with his face and knees intact. Bravo!
He told ESPN on Sunday that 10 years from now he hopes to be known better from the movies than from football. That's honesty. It means his dreams beyond the Dolphins will have been realized. It does not remotely suggest he won't give his last season (probably) in the NFL his very best shot.
That's because the ever-pragmatic Taylor understands he is a borderline Hall of Fame candidate and that one last huge season could push him over the top. Just as he understands that ''Hall of Famer'' are three words that would help gild with gold his bridge from football to entertainment.
Likewise his desire to be traded to a contending team (unlikely now) has little to do with the treatment by Parcells and everything to do with knowing that ''Super Bowl champion'' are three more words that would smooth that transition into his next life.
You know what, though?
Taylor has already done that.
Jerry Rice said he is now three times more recognized from Dancing With the Stars than from being the greatest receiver in football history, and Taylor can relate.
Maybe that's what Parcells can't bring himself to accept.
People in the NFL think there is nothing bigger or more important than the NFL. These football people convince themselves the almighty championship -- the hallowed Super Bowl ring -- is the holy grail and defining pinnacle of one's life, and that the lack of it is soul-shattering.
Then along comes a man whose passions go beyond the gridiron and whose next sack dance might just be a mambo.
Yes, along comes a man whose long-range goals may prove to be far better served by raising a Dancing With the Stars trophy than a Super Bowl trophy.
Deal with it, Tuna.
