Dear Deion: There was a time when your Prime Time swagger was endearing. Back when you were still effortlessly shutting down opposing receivers as a Hall of Fame defensive back, your brash self-confidence, unfiltered by any hint of superego, played as charming. You've also proven yourself a passable used car salesman, and those DirectTV commercials in which you and Peyton Manning flutter about on fairy wings were amusing, at least for the first couple of dozen viewings.
If you like this story, consider signing up for our email newsletters.
SHOW ME HOW
You have successfully signed up for your selected newsletter(s) - please keep an eye on your mailbox, we're movin' in!
But we're beginning to question your judgment. Actually, to be honest, it's not much of a question anymore. Your judgment is really, ridiculously terrible. We know it's tough to go through a divorce, and it's probably even harder when the media covers it like it's the coronation of a new pope, but this slander match you're having with your estranged wife doesn't suit you. This is brutal trench warfare at the goal line, whereas your talents are much better deployed in the open field.
We're sure that live-Tweeting your domestic disputes undoubtedly seemed like a good idea at the time, and that watching your own Hall of Fame speech in court, one of the few times you seem to have shed tears during two weeks of child custody proceedings, was genuinely moving, but these decisions you're making only make you seem like an unfeeling narcissist who cares for no one but himself.
Case in point: yesterday's "exclusive" interview with a sycophantic Fox 4 reporter in which you glory in your exciting custody battle win. You say you're "elated," which is to be expected, but then you offer some misguided sports metaphor about the game being in the fourth quarter and talk about how damn happy your children are to have the privilege of living with Deion f-ing Sanders. "Everybody's like, 'oh these kids are damaged,'" you say. "No! They're not. My kids live a wonderful life. My kids are ready to go on vacation. They don't' care about what went on. They're like,' Daddy can we buy boogie boards ... can I get these cargo shorts? Not, 'Daddy who do I stay with when I come back home?'"
The point is, it's probably wise to stop publicly crowing about how badly you destroyed your wife in court. It's unbecoming. But if you absolutely have to air your domestic triumphs in the media and on Twitter -- and it seems like you do -- it might be advisable to sprinkle in a bit of contrition that things had to come to this. At least then you might come across as the flailing divorcée we've all known, guilty of an astounding lack of self-awareness but actually human.