Corey Dillon always hated losing, even when everyone expected it.
He conducted clinics in competition more than a decade ago during lunches at Franklin High School, defying those with more ability in pickup basketball games, playing like a man possessed. Sometimes he didn't stop to eat. And when the bell rang, Dillon wouldn't let anyone leave until he won.
"He was a horrible basketball player, and he'd be up there trying to break the backboards," says Joe Slye, longtime Franklin football coach. "But he's a super competitor, always will be. That's just his personality."
So they hear Dillon, now a Cincinnati Bengal, saying, "I want out," and shrug their shoulders. They listen to him demand trades and vent frustration, then read between the lines, knowing that a competitive fire that burns so fiercely might not always scorch its intended target.
Like Wednesday — exactly three years after he broke the NFL's single-game rushing record — when another Dillon outburst, a demand to be traded to Dallas that came after the trade deadline, danced across national airwaves.
"You don't understand Corey," says one supporter to people who have never met him. "Most people don't. And most people probably never will."
Those who know Dillon can take a situation much like the one this week, rationalize it and say, "That's just Corey. He wants to win so badly."
"Things like this would happen from time to time," Slye says, his laughter echoing across the Franklin football field. "I wouldn't take it really seriously, but I'd sit him down and say, 'I know the motivation and I understand the rationale behind it, but you can't do it like that. You have to be able to influence and win friends, not run people off.' "
Ah, running — Dillon never had a problem in that regard.
He bounced from Edmonds Community College to Garden City Community College in Kansas to Dixie College in Utah and finally to the University of Washington. For one brief and beautiful season with the Huskies in 1996, Dillon gained 1,555 yards and scored 23 touchdowns, despite starting only eight games.
The NFL proved only slightly more difficult. Dillon is one of four backs in NFL history to rush for more than 1,000 yards in each of his first six seasons. He broke the single-game rookie rushing record in his fifth start and the single-game NFL rushing record not long after in 2000.
All on one of the most putrid teams in the league, a team whose playoff hopes usually end before the season starts.
But Dillon complained this week about not getting enough carries. He hasn't carried more than 23 times since a 30-carry, 138-yard performance in a loss to Tennessee 12 months ago.
Thanks to two injuries in 2003 and the emergence of the Bengals' passing game, Dillon has gained only 203 yards on 62 carries. Three years ago last Wednesday, he gained 278 yards on 22 carries against the Broncos. In college, he rushed for 222 yards in a quarter against San Jose State.
"We have not run the ball nearly as well as we'd like to," says Cincinnati offensive coordinator Bob Bratkowski, a former Seahawks coach. "If we don't have that balance, we're not as good an offensive team as we'd like to be. Our record reflects a poor running attack.
"(Dillon) is tired of losing, and he expresses his anger about that situation. When he runs angry, he's at his best."
Add all of it together — the injuries, the Bengals scaling back their rushing game, the years of losing and ineptitude. Combine that with Dillon's tenuous relationship with the media, an image sullied by three previous arrests and other outbursts such as Dillon saying he'd rather "flip burgers" than play for Cincinnati.
Let it simmer, boil, then watch it spill, several factors combining to produce another there-goes-Corey Dillon incident.
"Ain't nothing permanent, ain't nothing concrete," Dillon told reporters last week. "You sign a contract with your wife — you can get rid of her, can't you? And that's a lifetime contract. There's ways out of anything."
They hear things like that, those who know Dillon, and they cringe a little. But they understand the source. They try to explain, to make everyone understand.
"The closer the game got, the more he wanted it," says Greg Croshaw, Dillon's coach at Dixie College. "He always wanted to be the guy . I remember one game he got hurt for us. He was as good, if not better, on one leg as most guys are on two. It's the fire within."
Croshaw remembers the good moments — embracing Dillon at the Pro Bowl, catching up with him on the telephone. Same with Slye, who sees Dillon nearly every summer.
They prefer to paint with positive strokes. A running back so dominant Seahawks coach Mike Holmgren says that, when healthy, Dillon is "clearly one of the best backs in football." An athlete so skilled the San Diego Padres also drafted him to play baseball.
A player so cherished, Croshaw asks, "Are there any more guys like Corey up there in Seattle? If so, send them my way. I'll take every single one of them."
http://sports.yahoo.com
He conducted clinics in competition more than a decade ago during lunches at Franklin High School, defying those with more ability in pickup basketball games, playing like a man possessed. Sometimes he didn't stop to eat. And when the bell rang, Dillon wouldn't let anyone leave until he won.
"He was a horrible basketball player, and he'd be up there trying to break the backboards," says Joe Slye, longtime Franklin football coach. "But he's a super competitor, always will be. That's just his personality."
So they hear Dillon, now a Cincinnati Bengal, saying, "I want out," and shrug their shoulders. They listen to him demand trades and vent frustration, then read between the lines, knowing that a competitive fire that burns so fiercely might not always scorch its intended target.
Like Wednesday — exactly three years after he broke the NFL's single-game rushing record — when another Dillon outburst, a demand to be traded to Dallas that came after the trade deadline, danced across national airwaves.
"You don't understand Corey," says one supporter to people who have never met him. "Most people don't. And most people probably never will."
Those who know Dillon can take a situation much like the one this week, rationalize it and say, "That's just Corey. He wants to win so badly."
"Things like this would happen from time to time," Slye says, his laughter echoing across the Franklin football field. "I wouldn't take it really seriously, but I'd sit him down and say, 'I know the motivation and I understand the rationale behind it, but you can't do it like that. You have to be able to influence and win friends, not run people off.' "
Ah, running — Dillon never had a problem in that regard.
He bounced from Edmonds Community College to Garden City Community College in Kansas to Dixie College in Utah and finally to the University of Washington. For one brief and beautiful season with the Huskies in 1996, Dillon gained 1,555 yards and scored 23 touchdowns, despite starting only eight games.
The NFL proved only slightly more difficult. Dillon is one of four backs in NFL history to rush for more than 1,000 yards in each of his first six seasons. He broke the single-game rookie rushing record in his fifth start and the single-game NFL rushing record not long after in 2000.
All on one of the most putrid teams in the league, a team whose playoff hopes usually end before the season starts.
But Dillon complained this week about not getting enough carries. He hasn't carried more than 23 times since a 30-carry, 138-yard performance in a loss to Tennessee 12 months ago.
Thanks to two injuries in 2003 and the emergence of the Bengals' passing game, Dillon has gained only 203 yards on 62 carries. Three years ago last Wednesday, he gained 278 yards on 22 carries against the Broncos. In college, he rushed for 222 yards in a quarter against San Jose State.
"We have not run the ball nearly as well as we'd like to," says Cincinnati offensive coordinator Bob Bratkowski, a former Seahawks coach. "If we don't have that balance, we're not as good an offensive team as we'd like to be. Our record reflects a poor running attack.
"(Dillon) is tired of losing, and he expresses his anger about that situation. When he runs angry, he's at his best."
Add all of it together — the injuries, the Bengals scaling back their rushing game, the years of losing and ineptitude. Combine that with Dillon's tenuous relationship with the media, an image sullied by three previous arrests and other outbursts such as Dillon saying he'd rather "flip burgers" than play for Cincinnati.
Let it simmer, boil, then watch it spill, several factors combining to produce another there-goes-Corey Dillon incident.
"Ain't nothing permanent, ain't nothing concrete," Dillon told reporters last week. "You sign a contract with your wife — you can get rid of her, can't you? And that's a lifetime contract. There's ways out of anything."
They hear things like that, those who know Dillon, and they cringe a little. But they understand the source. They try to explain, to make everyone understand.
"The closer the game got, the more he wanted it," says Greg Croshaw, Dillon's coach at Dixie College. "He always wanted to be the guy . I remember one game he got hurt for us. He was as good, if not better, on one leg as most guys are on two. It's the fire within."
Croshaw remembers the good moments — embracing Dillon at the Pro Bowl, catching up with him on the telephone. Same with Slye, who sees Dillon nearly every summer.
They prefer to paint with positive strokes. A running back so dominant Seahawks coach Mike Holmgren says that, when healthy, Dillon is "clearly one of the best backs in football." An athlete so skilled the San Diego Padres also drafted him to play baseball.
A player so cherished, Croshaw asks, "Are there any more guys like Corey up there in Seattle? If so, send them my way. I'll take every single one of them."
http://sports.yahoo.com
when i guy`s a bad apple,he`s not understood...dillon`s a piece of shit.....not a bengal fan....not even close...but just when this club appears to be turning the corner,this guy starts his "little girl" act....i understand that he was put on inactive because the team didn`t know what was going on.....i have to call work when i don`t show up...
dump this virus....the long suffering fans of cincinnati don`t deserve this...
dump this virus....the long suffering fans of cincinnati don`t deserve this...
