The Charles Grant Debacle

So you’ve probably heard the news that New Orleans Saints defensive end Charles Grant has been indicted for an incident at a rural Georgia night club back in February.  He left training camp this week and headed to Southeast Georgia to face involuntary manslaughter charges.  If convicted, the he could get 1-10 years in prison.  And if you’re anything like us, you think this is 100%, unfiltered dog vomit.

While at first glance one might be tempted to chalk this up as another case of athletes behaving badly, we can’t help but feel like Charles is getting a raw deal.  And no, that’s not the Saints fan in us talking.  It’s the “Law and Order” marathon watcher in us that makes us cringe at the possibility some small town could be using a high profile player to get in the national spotlight and “look tough on crime.”

Here are the facts of the case as we know it:

-On February 3rd, Charles Grant and his buddies were hanging out in boondocks Georgia when he and his crew got into a fight.

-Grant took a knife to the neck during the fight and a stray bullet fired during the commotion killed a pregnant bystander, 23 year old Korynda Reed.

-Grant has not been publicly accused by anyone of starting the fight, requesting that someone fire a gun, or firing the gun himself.

-In February, the Times Picayune quoted the Earl County Sheriff’s office as saying Grant was nothing more than a victim in the case.

So the question remains, why the F is he suddenly facing felony charges?

I’m not from Texas but I know bullshit when I smell it.  This guilt by association bit doesn’t sit well with me and won’t until some snaggle-toothed DA in Georgia (who also happens to be the town barber) steps forward and explains the basis for the charges.  Beyond the implications of Charles’ legal problems for the Saints come next season, I can’t stomach the idea of a man being sent to prison for being around when someone fired a gun that killed someone.    

The good news is that neither Grant nor the Saints organization appear, at least publicly, to be freaking out.  I can’t say that does much to keep my blood from boiling and my heart from aching at the prospect of a guy taking the fall for something he had nothing to do with.