O.J. Simpson’s Great and Tragic Life

By the time O.J. Simpson passed away recently, he was almost an afterthought to society at large. Certainly, the tragic, often dark side of his life after football and TV and movie stardom contributed to this feeling that O.J. was yesterday’s news. But when we look at the big picture of his life, it’s amazing how much was captured of the extreme highs of celebrity in America and the crashing lows that so often occur, not only to individuals but to the country at large. The arc of O.J.’s life paralleled in many ways our country’s journey – from the other-worldly superstardom at USC in the late 1960s, to the 1990s as the defendant in the most riveting murder trial of the century, to this century and his continued downfall in the public eye culminating in an arrest and imprisonment for, ironically enough, theft of valuable items that he felt were his all along.

Cemented in my mind is the electrifying 64-yard run by Simpson in the 1967 USC-UCLA game. Even though I grew up watching some great running backs like Jim Brown and Gale Sayers, I’d never seen as exciting of a cutback run as that one, especially thrilling in a close game when it was the winning touchdown. I even wrote a short story in English class about O.J. breaking another such run in the Rose Bowl game (just fictional, as it didn’t really happen). At this point, O.J. Simpson was a hero to the American public due to his amazing exploits on the football field. Little thought was given to what kind of a person he was, and what kind of family life he grew up in.

The good vibes about O.J.’s reputation as a clean-cut good guy continued after his football career. He was the guy running through the airport on the Hertz commercials with little old ladies urging him to “Go, O.J., go.” As a color announcer for NFL games, he was pleasant and affable and provided insights only someone who had played the game could do. Later, he even added movie star to his resume as the oafish cop Nordberg in the Naked Gun series with Leslie Nielsen. Of course, with Nielsen as the star these movies were bound to be madcap silliness and this contributed to Simpson’s stature as a good guy who didn’t mind being the butt of some crazy humor. 

Meanwhile, as later exposure of events confirmed, Simpson was leading a double life with the physical abuse he dished out to then-wife Nicole Brown Simpson, well hidden from public view. Like so many spousal abusers, Simpson was insanely jealous and only grudgingly agreed to and never accepted the divorce that Nicole demanded. After the murders, the only question regarding the possibility of anyone besides Simpson as the murderer should have been: Who else had motive to murder both Nicole and her friend Ron Goldman? Unless this was a purely random act by a truly crazed individual, there’s no other plausible explanation, given the gruesome nature of the murders, than that O.J. Simpson was solely responsible. 

As we look at the start of Trump’s show trial in Manhattan for a “trumped-up” crime, and how the court can possibly ensure an unbiased jury in that venue, it’s instructive to look at Simpson’s acquittal in the face of compelling evidence of guilt. Was the fact that the majority of jurors were African-American the main reason for the acquittal, instead of the prosecution’s failure to show him guilty beyond a reasonable doubt? We’ll never know for sure, but there was a clear difference of opinion on the outcome depending largely on race; simply put, the majority of blacks felt it was a fair verdict and the majority of whites did not. The racial divide in assessing the verdict, while not surprising, was a harbinger of things to come regarding race relations and how white liberals have helped to poison the well with their incessant pandering and lingering guilt about the past. Unfortunately for the legacy of O.J. Simpson, he will be remembered more for seemingly getting away with murder due to his race and celebrity status, than for his greatness as an athlete.