Plaxico Burress latest athlete to give 757 a bad image

When Plaxico Burress shot himself in the thigh, he became a national punch line, but what he has done to the 757 isn’t so funny.

Thank God he didn’t accidentally graze a dog when his unregistered Glock went off the other night in New York City. It’s bad enough that there are other obvious links – area code, serious criminal charges, idiocy – between Burress and Michael Vick. He doesn’t need PETA on his case, too.

Think the 757 isn’t identified with famously troubled, self-destructive jocks? Or that Burress’ legal problems, while not as awful as Vick’s criminal dog abuse, won’t further contribute to the area’s image for producing outstanding talent of questionable character?

Concerning such matters, scientific data is scarce, but I offer anecdotal evidence from a family source.

My oldest daughter, who works in midtown Manhattan, is friendly with the doorman at her office building, a Jamaican who has visited Hampton Roads more than once.

When he discovered where my daughter grew up, he rattled off the names of the usual suspects with roots in the 757: Michael and Marcus Vick, Tim Montgomery, Allen Iverson, Sweetpea Whitaker.

“He’s a big sports fan,” she said. “He likes to tell me about all the athletes from back home who have been arrested.”

The subject came up this week when I asked her in jest how New York was coping with this Burress business.

“That’s all there is in the tabloids,” she said, speaking by cell phone while returning from lunch, yet she wasn’t aware that Plaxico is from Virginia Beach.

“Oh, wow,” she said. “Another guy.”

She said she’d tell Charles, the doorman, when she got back to her office. Now he can add Burress to his list.

There’s another list, though. Next time I talk with my daughter, I’ll make sure to drop the names of athletes who haven’t tarnished the 757.

There’s David Wright, of course, who she has seen play at Shea Stadium. The doorman must have heard of him, too. Then there’s B.J. and Justin Upton, Michael Cuddyer, Ryan Zimmerman and other big leaguers with good community standing.

In pro basketball, the 757 can claim respected stalwarts Alonzo Mourning and Joe Smith. From the NFL, Dre Bly leads a group of positive local influences.

Regrettably for the reputation of the 757, though, Burress is the local guy who’s pushing Madonna out of New York’s tabloid headlines. Off the field, he continues to run bad routes. This comes as a surprise only to those unfamiliar with his career.

Life is all about choices. Burress chose to ignore the law that requires a handgun permit. He reportedly took his gun into a crowded nightclub with the safety off. When he fumbled the weapon, it discharged.

At the hospital where he went to have his leg examined (he should have had his head examined), Burress provided a phony name. He allegedly had teammate Antonio Pierce try to hide the gun.

An Olympic pole vaulter couldn’t clear his catalogue of stupid decisions.

As Burress’ hands – the same hands that caught the game-winning pass in the Super Bowl – were shackled behind his back in Manhattan en route to his arraignment on two counts of criminal possession of a handgun, the country witnessed another pathetic case of arrested development.

The season ended for Burress when the Giants placed him on the non-football injury list, but he has got bigger issues than that.

As for the financial fallout, it’s being reported that Burress could lose $27 million of the five-year $35 million contract he signed in September. He and Mike Vick can compare notes on the price of stupidity.

Coming off last year’s Super Bowl, Burress should be recognized as a great receiver, not a celebrated defendant and world-class knucklehead. Life, though, is made up of choices.

Burress’ have put him on the brutal, bitter path traveled by other clueless athletes from the 757.

Bob Molinaro, (757) 446-2373, bob.molinaro@pilotonline.com