Carroll Angeles

others. I embarrassed them, I embarrassed the city, but they supported me."
He wasn't done paying a price, though. He was quickly pulled into Bill Polian's office and told he would be
suspended for one game without pay. McAfee was angry, and let Polian know it.
"I respect him and appreciate what he's done for me, but I let him know I didn't appreciate the fine and the
suspension when nobody else got in trouble for their issues," McAfee said, referring to the fact the Colts
had three previous alcohol-related arrests that season. "We had some drunken driving stuff that got washed
away; I got in trouble on a Tuesday during a bye week and I was suspended for a Monday night game. I let
him know I wasn't happy."
He paused.
"Looking back now, though, I understand it. I do. I heard people say, 'Well, the Colts told the players the
next guy who gets in trouble is going to pay the price.' That was never, ever said. But I guess it was kind of
understood. I was the straw that broke the camel's back. I wasn't happy about it at the time, but I get that
now."
For the next week, he stayed home, tried to avoid television and radio. He was angry with himself, angry
with some of the coverage his story was generating. "Although I liked your video with the snorkel," he
said. "That was classic."
Then, on the following Wednesday of game week, McAfee faced the public -- well, the media as a conduit
to the public -- and handled it about as well as any athlete could hope to handle a tough moment. He
apologized. Not one of those ridiculous, scripted apologies, like the Tiger Woods dog-and-pony show. He
brought the media to his locker and spoke from the heart.
The hurt and regret were palpable.
"Nobody from the Colts put my speech together," McAfee said. "You look at some guys, they come in with
this prepared speech, but I told our (public relations) guy, 'I want to do this. I want to take care of this.' I
was actually excited for the chance."
He then entered the NFL's substance-abuse program as a first-time offender.
That has meant getting tested randomly for drugs and alcohol nine times a month. (He said he's allowed to
drink moderately.) And he's seeing an adviser once a week, a 63-year-old local pastor he once resented,
only to see him now as a confidant and friend.
He was asked if he thinks he had, or has, a problem with alcohol.
"You know, I thought at the time I was your average 23-year-old kid who just liked to have a good time,"
he said. "Looking back at some of the mistakes I made, and that situation (the night he was arrested), I must
have had some kind of problem. I just knew something had to change. Now, I can have a beer or two and
just stop."
So he goes out and lives his life. Sometimes that means having some bar idiot getting in his ear and saying,
"Hey, Pat, where are we swimming tonight?" But he's gotten his good name back, his good reputation.
A year ago at this time, he embarrassed himself and was humiliated on a public stage. Today, he's having a
Pro Bowl-quality season, slowly nursing a cold beer on a rainy Tuesday in Broad Ripple, not really caring
what anybody makes of his presence near the jukebox.