game is about them

PAUL GUTIERREZ

SACRAMENTO --A scourge is sweeping across the NFL landscape.

It boasts the preening of Terrell Owens, the showboating of Chad Johnson, the sneer of Randy Moss.

They are appreciated and even celebrated in some corners; condemned and vilified in others.

Pampered yet petulant prima donnas, wide receivers have become the game's brightest celebrities and, oftentimes, biggest headaches.

So what makes receivers such different cats who crave attention with the same hunger they want the ball, and why are they megalomaniac animals in the wild kingdom that is America's national obsession?

"They just don't know who they are," said former California and Minnesota Vikings quarterback Joe Kapp. "They know they're better than defensive backs because if you can't make it as a wide receiver you become a defensive back. And they're not running backs because they're not getting the ball 15 times a game. They're lonely.

"That's why they're psychos," Kapp added with a howl. "It's always been that way, and leopards can't change their spots."

All over the league, drama on a team's roster is usually found near the receivers.

If it's not Owens, as a 49er, celebrating on the Dallas Cowboys' star at midfield, then it's the artist known simply as "T.O." pulling a marker from his sock to autograph a ball after a touchdown. Or doing sit-ups in his driveway for the benefit of the media. Or overdosing on pills. Or crying like a baby in need of a midnight feeding when defending his quarterback. Or implying that previous quarterbacks were either A) gay or B) throwing up in the huddle during the Super Bowl.

Yes, he's done all that, and more.

Or it could be Moss admitting he has smoked marijuana "every blue moon" since entering the league and saying he takes plays off.

Or it could be Johnson legally changing his name to Chad "Ocho Cinco" to reflect his uniform No. 85 in Spanish, when, in reality, it should be Chad "Ochenta y Cinco."

"As you look at it today, it's become a high-maintenance position," former 49ers general manager John McVay said with a giggle. "They require a lot of maintenance."

Who can forget Joe Horn pulling out a cell phone after a touchdown? And how about Keyshawn Johnson, writing a book titled "Just Give Me the Damn Ball!" . . . after his rookie season? Steve Smith served a two-game suspension after punching a teammate this summer. Even Marvin Harrison found himself in some gun drama this offseason.

"Only we understand us," the erstwhile Ocho Cinco told the Dallas Morning News.

Drama queens? Psychos? How about a more clinical explanation? Sports sociologist Harry Edwards said a receiver's psychology should begin with the player's positioning on the field --as a literal island.

"You're talking about a unique position in the quintessential team sport," Edwards said. "The wide receiver, on almost every play, is by himself. He has a stage to himself, and when he catches a ball and scores a touchdown, he most certainly has a stage to himself."

Care to guess, then, which position is credited with giving birth to the celebratory spike and end zone dance? "It's not an accident these are receivers," Edwards laughed. "It is a psycho-athletic dimension of the game. There's a dimension to the position that tends to dictate disposition."

The study of such attitudes has been ongoing. Arnold J. Mandell was the San Diego Chargers' team psychiatrist in 1973 when, according to the Charlotte Observer, he wrote position-by-position psychological profiles.

Part of his analysis of receivers: "The wide receiver is a very special human being. He shares many features with actors and movie stars. He is narcissistic and vain and basically a loner.

"They are interested in looking pretty, being pretty. They are elegant, interpersonally isolated. Wide receivers don't group, they don't mob out. They are actors, uninflected about showing off; individualists, quite interested in their own welfare, their own appearance."

In San Francisco, McVay said he never dealt with such flamboyant histrionics.

"We were blessed with Freddie Solomon, Jerry Rice, Dwight Clark, John Taylor," McVay said. "All of them were real gentlemen and unselfish players."

But today's is a different environment. Mostly because of the proliferation of media coverage and the evolution of the NFL into more of a passing league.

"They always think they're open," Kapp said.

"And not just open --wide open."

McVay laughed. "Isn't that the truth?" he said.

"They want to get in the paper or on the highlights. The problem with some of them is they want to shine the light on themselves at the expense of their teammates.

"You have to kind of laugh at it all."

Otherwise, traditionalists might lose their minds watching receivers who act as if they've already lost theirs.