You still can't spell crazy without Maurice Clarett

Hubris morphs the game-winning touchdown hero of a hard fought BCS national title game into a false police report filer and ex-college athlete at 19.

Pride drives the NFL draft pick to show up at training camp a fat, surly drunk even though he had turned down guaranteed money to sign an incentive-laden contract.

Narcissism transforms the wayward star, about to get a second chance, into a dark ally stick-up artist.

The combination of frailties that conspired to put Maurice Clarett in a SUV, dressed in full body armor, four firearms and a hatchet riding shotgun isn't what matters, ultimately.

We may never know if Maurice Clarett was off to assassinate a witness in the upcoming trial against him, or simply trying to make it to Georgia for the Cynthia McKinney rally.

But we will have all learned a few things from this tragic fall of this tragic hero:

Body armor isn't just for stopping low-caliber bullets. It is also quite effective against the taser. Unfortunately, cops carry mace. Maybe a gas mask next time?

Three hand guns and an assault rifle are nice. But you can't use them all at once. And sometimes firearms jam. That is why it is important to travel with a hatchet.

When a cop pulls you over, and approaches your car, taking a swig from a bottle of vodka will not endear you to him. But it is preferable to telling him that you think Jews are responsible for all the wars in the world or, if he is a she, referring to her as sugar tits.

Maurice Clarett, a human. Just like you and me. Only more so.