McNair murder is cautionary tale for more than groupies

Local author Ross Bernstein has written a series of books called "The Code," exploring the unwritten rules that dictate athletes' behavior in a particular sport. Turns out there's a game Bernstein has missed.

Sports groupies apparently have their own code of conduct, as revealed in the wake of Steve McNair's murder by his young mistress, Sahel Kazemi. Lisa DePaulo, who immersed herself in the groupie culture for a magazine assignment three years ago, revisited the scene to gain insight into why the McNair-Kazemi affair turned deadly. (To DePaulo's credit, she said the alternative to doing the original assignment was "lethal injection.") Among the rules observed by veterans of the sports adultery circuit, as DePaulo noted on the website the Daily Beast:

Don't fall in love. Never expect him to leave his wife for you; in fact, don't question him about anything. Angle for jewelry, maybe even a car, but make sure it's fully paid for. And getting pregnant can be a business strategy. As "groupie expert" Brenda Thomas told DePaulo: "If [Kazemi] played by the rules, she would have just gotten knocked up. And then, she would have had child-support payments for life. But she got in too deep."

So now we know. When the real game ends, the gamesmanship in the athletes' club of choice is just beginning.

While McNair's behavior has been justly rebuked, DePaulo's article is a reminder that his murder and Kazemi's suicide happened because two consenting adults made terrible choices -- and that both were following established patterns within the greater sports culture. Hearing that your favorite married-athlete-with-kids, even a seemingly "nice guy" like McNair, indulges in side action is now akin to hearing news of the latest positive drug test; it's disappointing, but hardly surprising. Neither is it shocking to see women hanging around outside arenas, hotels and bars, dressed for sexcess, eager to provide the supply side of the equation.

While covering the North Stars and the Timberwolves in the early 1990s, I witnessed hordes of groupies hovering around the teams' orbit in every city. A staff member of one team told of an athlete who took regular doses of penicillin as a preemptive measure against venereal disease. As appalling as that is to many of us, the people associated with those teams seemed to view it as part of the pro athlete's life, like an autograph signing or news conference. And that's the saddest thing of all: that these attitudes are so ingrained that they no longer seem outrageous.

For generations, we've soaked our elite male athletes in a sense of entitlement. The usual rules of society don't apply; Multiple affairs are considered a perk of the job, and wives who complain are told that they should have known what they were getting into. We've sent an equally poor message to young women -- that self-esteem, not to mention an Escalade or a Prada bag, can be found on the arm of an athlete or entertainer.

This isn't to suggest that athletes should be primary role models, or that they aren't subject to human frailties. But that doesn't mean we should excuse, enable or laugh off widespread behavior that is so clearly damaging. While some have viewed McNair's murder as a cautionary tale in the "Fatal Attraction" mold -- cheating can get you killed -- that's a simplistic and shallow reading.

Instead, it could be an opportunity to examine the attitudes that led to this alternative moral universe -- and perhaps even pave the way toward a new code. Here's a start for both sides: Respect others, and respect yourselves. That sounds like a rule everyone can live with.