Liquidating With The Juice.

No, I am not endorsing the newest colon cleanse. Instead, I am referring to THE JUICE, Heisman Trophy winner and record setting pigskin prodigy, O.J. Simpson.

It would appear that justice thinly disguised as karma, if you proscribe to either thing, has risen and finally taking a big hearty bite from O.J.'s backside. His recent conviction on charges of robbery and kidnapping appear to be the end of the long odyssey that has been Simpson's last 13 or so years.

O.J. was the quintessential American hero. From meager beginnings he exploded on the scene as a record setting running back with USC. After leading the team to the National Championship in 1967, he won the 1968 Heisman Trophy and continued on to the NFL where he further established records and wowed fans with his uncanny speed and agility. His popularity as a player and his Madison Avenue good looks paved the way for movie roles and lucrative commercial opportunities. Few black men in American history have fared better than O.J. Simpson.

But in June 1995 the brilliant star that was O.J. fell from the sky as hard and fast as SkyLab and with far more damage and loss of life. The Juice's estranged wife, Nichole and friend, Ron Goldman were found brutally murdered at the Brentwood home of Nichole (and former crib of OJ). Simpson was arrested and charged, the circus of OJ's trial unfolded and thus began his desert wandering days.

Ito, Furhman, Clark, Darden, Bailey, Shapiro, Cochran, Kardashian, Resnick, Vanatter, Lange and Kato Kaelin nauseatingly became household names and the mostly black and female jury took about twenty minutes to return a not guilty verdict. Two years later in a civil suit brought by Goldman's family, OJ was found guilty and ordered to fork over 8+ million dollars. As of this writing, the Goldman's claim to have never gotten a penny from OJ who deftly hid what he could by moving out of California and through legal entanglements. Pity that. But it had to cost him. Lawyers aren't cheap.

OJ's latest arrest occurred when he and a few cronies were caught attempting to aggressively take sports memorabilia items that OJ claimed belonged to him. One can only surmise that his years as a pariah had left him a little thin in the wallet. He probably needed his "stuff" back to sell for his own benefit. OJ did pocket 600 thousand bucks in advance of his hypothetical book, If I Did It, but Goldman was able to wrest that cash cow away through the edicts of his aforementioned civil suit. The Juice had to be getting desperate for cash. Why else would he take the kind of chance he took in that Vegas hotel room? Well, perhaps that is a dumb question; after all, this is The Juice we are talking about: that perfect blend of skill, sex and stupidity all mixed up in a racial kool aid imbibed only by the most diversity sensitive of our society.

After the 1995 murders, The Heisman Trophy was gone, the movie and commercial deals were no more and his reputation dried up faster than Nichole's blood on the Brentwood pavement. The OJ phenomenon had run it's course. This latest run in with the law may effectively remove his mug shot from memory. Most folks, save the most dedicated race hucksters, think it's high time "The Juice" gets what he deserves. This latest conviction and destined trip to the stripey hole is viewed by many as a deferred payment for that bloody scene the cops found in Brentwood; and for the farce that transpired in the L.A. courtroom.

I suppose that OJ will have to convince someone on the outside to continue the dogged search for the killers of Ron and Nichole on the golf courses of America.