Steve McNair was murdered 10 years ago today. Nashville paper chooses the low road in writing on him

cnc

BGOL vet down since the “56k stay out!” days
BGOL Gold Member
The fucking media can’t just let a good man Rest In Peace and celebrate the good, no, GREAT shit he did in life. Nah, gotta piss on his faults while he’s in the grave. Meanwhile, a serial adulterer is occupying 1600 Pennsylvania and they have let that shit ride forever.

Story writer is the teams hometown paper too; they should really ice the motherfucker out from here on out. :angry:

https://www.tennessean.com/story/sp...ashville-sahel-kazemi-anniversary/1597765001/

The final days of Steve McNair

Ten years ago, former Tennessee Titans quarterback was found dead in his condo alongside his girlfriend, Sahel Kazemi.

Autumn Allison, Nashville Tennessean

Friends of Steve McNair say everything seemed normal. Nothing seemed amiss. What you saw was what you got. A family man. A faithful man. A community-oriented and generous leader of a man.

But there existed another side to the former Titans quarterback and 2003 NFL co-MVP, one that was more susceptible to temptation. That’s the side that opened the door for a young, unsettled mistress to enter his life.

Sahel "Jenni" Kazemi shot and killed McNair before turning the gun on herself on July 4, 2009, the Metro Nashville Police Department concluded. He was 36. She was 20.


Ten years later, those close to McNair reiterate one point but end at another.

“There are a bunch of tragic stories of famous players and entertainers. It happens,” former Titans wide receiver Derrick Mason said.

But for that to happen to the infallible McNair?

“Shocking,” Mason said. “You were just in disbelief.”

Shaping a generation
One of McNair’s final community efforts was opening Gridiron9, a since-closed restaurant on Jefferson Street intended to give Tennessee State students an affordable place to eat.

"He established his business in the heart of the black community over at TSU to have a strong and powerful impact," former Titans running back Eddie George said.

That was McNair.

His career as a professional athlete was dotted with examples of giving back, and he had no plans of halting that trend as he began retirement in 2007.

“He did as much as he possibly could to help the community,” Mason said of the four-time Pro Bowler and 2005 NFL Man of the Year nominee who was the highest-drafted African American quarterback in NFL history when he was selected third overall in 1995.

He established the Steve McNair Foundation to benefit youth charities and hosted his first youth football camp in 1999 at Mississippi Gulf Coast Community College. He led them multiple times a year in both Nashville and Mississippi, until the summer of his death.

"When Steve started holding his camps, nobody else was doing a whole lot of them," said Mitchell Williams, a Mississippi sports anchor who was close to McNair. "He helped start that trend."

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Williams, who helped run McNair's camps, saw how involved and engaged he was when working with young players.

"Touchable. Just so touchable and approachable and always spending time with those campers," Williams said. "A generation of young people came to Steve's camps."

Williams estimates 11,000 kids attended those camps.

“And all of them for free,” Williams said.

George remembers McNair making a speech before one of his camps. He had something written down — a script. It seemed inauthentic, though, so McNair ripped up the paper before speaking from his heart.

"He gave this really impactful, heartfelt speech that moved the crowd into giving toward his foundation," George said. "I thought that was remarkable."

That was the side of McNair that so thoroughly masked the other.

Not just one mistress
McNair had a crash pad, a condominium at 105 Lea Ave. he rented with a friend. Its function was simply to serve as a place away from family, a sort of bachelor pad where he'd whisk young women away for quiet affairs.

Kazemi wasn’t his only mistress at the time of his death.

There was Leah Ignagni, a 25-year-old with whom McNair had a relationship with while being involved with Kazemi. Police believe that Kazemi finding out about Ignagni fueled her deadly intentions.

Steve McNair: The tragic death of the former Tennessee Titans star
View All Photos

McNair spent the night with Ignagni on July 2, two nights before Kazemi killed him, according to police and court documents.

The investigative summary produced by investigators noted that McNair's cellphone records contained text message correspondence with numerous women.

McNair was dancing with fire, said Gregg McCrary, a retired FBI agent who spent more than 25 years with the bureau, including about a decade with the Behavioral Science Unit.

"I think clearly this relationship and this part of his lifestyle – not only being married but I guess the process of maybe getting a divorce and having affairs with different women and apparently over just these few days ... out nightclubbing a lot, drinking and partying and out late and all of this sort of thing – those variables are where you would look (in tracing his downfall)," McCrary said.

'Searching for something'
"I'm pretty sure that (McNair) was dealing with some things that we don't know about," his teammate George said. "When you transition from the game – mentally and physically and emotionally transition – you go through so much change. Just imagine going from what you do every day and all of a sudden you're forced into doing something different.

"He was probably searching for something. Things in the wrong places."

McNair was exposed to the pressures marquee athletes face.

"The position and the sport and the amount of money you make, any professional athlete, puts a tremendous amount of pressure on them," former Titans general manager Floyd Reese said. "And it's not the kind of pressure that it's for two hours, three hours on a Sunday. It's every day you need to perform to a certain level, you need to do something. Much is given, much is required – that's kind of the motto that they live by."

Titans legend Eddie George on having his number retired alongside Steve McNair

Titans legends Eddie George and Steve McNair become the seventh and eighth players in franchise history to have their numbers retired.

Erik Bacharach, USA TODAY NETWORK – Tennessee

McNair seemed to handle that well – especially on the field, where George and Mason are quick to say: He's the toughest teammate they ever played with.

"He could literally flip a switch and make the pain go away," Reese said.

Reese's favorite memory of McNair? That time in December 2002 when he scrambled for a tying two-point conversion in an overtime win against the Giants, despite not practicing all week because of a rib injury.

"I go running down to the locker room to congratulate him and he’s laying on the table in the training room, convulsing," Reese said, "because he was in so much pain that he just could barely take it. It took him a while to calm down, but he was fine, got up afterwards."

Mason's favorite memory?That time in September 2000 when McNair wasn't supposed to play against the Steelers because of a bruised sternum, but wound up in the game with two minutes left after the Titans' backup quarterback suffered a concussion. He completed all three of his passes for 55 yards, including the winning touchdown.

"Soon as he stepped in the huddle," Mason said, "everybody knew that we were going to win the game."

He'd give you the shirt off his back
It's those moments, coupled with all those benevolent gestures aimed at bettering his community, that make the circumstances of McNair's death hard to comprehend for those close to him.

"It was like, he has no enemies. Who would want to do that to him?" Mason said. "This guy would give you the shirt off his back, so who would want to murder him the way they did? And then obviously stuff started to come out and whatnot, but still. You're in disbelief that even what you're hearing and how it happened, happened."

Not to mention McNair was a big family man.

Mason remembers the shock he felt in 2007 when McNair told him in the Ravens locker room that he was going to retire. McNair explained he wanted to spend more time with his family after an injury-riddled career, and it made perfect sense.

"He wanted to watch his kids grow, and who wouldn't want that as a man, as a guy that's spent so many years dedicated to one sport that it kept (him) away from a lot of stuff," Mason said. "And then he retires and he got a chance to just spend it with his family."

After his retirement, McNair prioritized making time for his four sons. Former coach Nevil Barr remembers him showing up for "a pretty good amount" of football games at Oak Grove High just outside Hattiesburg, Mississippi, where McNair's eldest son, Steve Jr., played wide receiver and defensive back.

"Steve Jr. always seemed to play exceptionally good when his dad was there," Barr recalled.

As for his marriage with his wife, Mechelle, with whom he had two children after they wed in 1997?

"I didn't know the state of his marriage. I don't ask questions," George said. "Everybody goes through something in their marriage."

10 years later
George, like Mason, remembers being incredulous when he first heard the news about McNair. Infidelity? Long nights out drinking?

"None of it sounded like Steve," George said.

But it was.

George doesn't ignore that. Ten years later, he just chooses to focus on his favorite side of McNair.

"Would've loved to see what he could've blossomed into as a businessman, as a philanthropist, as a man of God," George said. "And I choose to focus on the good times, the great memories."
 
I m not sure why a lot of these dudes don t learn from McNair. Your mistress is broke and because of you she is a kept woman.....living WAY ABOVE HER MEANS....

You threaten to take that away and she shoots you in your sleep......million dollar brother dying at the hands of a $2 side piece.
 
I m not sure why a lot of these dudes don t learn from McNair. Your mistress is broke and because of you she is a kept woman.....living WAY ABOVE HER MEANS....

You threaten to take that away and she shoots you in your sleep......million dollar brother dying at the hands of a $2 side piece.


Cautionary tale, most men can relate to... up until the part where the worst case scenario plays out, and Steve dies due to sidepiece related circumstances. Is that rush you get from the sidepiece really worth it?

Truth.

One of the great quotes I’ve ever heard, and I live by, was in a BGOL thread many years ago when someone stated an old head told them:

“If you’re going to fuck up, fuck up.”

Truer words have rarely been spoken.

R.I.P Air McNair.
 
I m not sure why a lot of these dudes don t learn from McNair. Your mistress is broke and because of you she is a kept woman.....living WAY ABOVE HER MEANS....

You threaten to take that away and she shoots you in your sleep......million dollar brother dying at the hands of a $2 side piece.
There will always be mistresses but the trick is to let them know to play their position from the beginning and you will be fine. You also don't spoil them excessively.
That's the mistake that he made. He gave her the key to a town house, told her he would divorce his wife,expensive vacations with pictures, and he bought her an Escalade and shit....etc
 
What else would you like to see to change your mind?
I didnt retain the details. But i read all the reports and related information on this when it happened and followed it for a few years. It never smelled right in real time. I will probably refresh my memory and re-red everything again at some point to see how it looks year after the fact.
 
What's up with all the conspiracy niggas?!? All of his dirt is out there.

He messed up by dealing with 20-old thirsty thots. Who cares if he had side hoes...just stick with 2nd-stringers who know their role and also has something to lose.
 
There was some suspicion about the the dude that found them. I remember there were some things that seemed off about the "friend's" relationship with her.

At one point, it seemed that the cops were going to look a little harder at the dude, but they decided that the murder/suicide angle was the only way to go.
 
I said it then and I say it now: he got what he deserved. Left his wife on a holiday to go knock down a waitress.

Let’s ask his widow how she feels.
 
I said it then and I say it now: he got what he deserved. Left his wife on a holiday to go knock down a waitress.

Let’s ask his widow how she feels.

And for those that were wondering, this is why the media portrays us the way they do.

Blacks, in the mind of most, including apparently some bgolers, have no redemptive value.

Whether we’re facing Johnny law, the court system or at work, every error we make should be our last.
Shoot first, maxImum sentence or terminate on site.

Remember the white kid on the board yesterday that raped the drunk girl and the judge referred to his good grades...

Until we are viewed as flawed people who don’t deserve to get shot dead in the street for frivolous infractions,
Stupid statements like the one above will be continued to be made.

Carry on......
 
And for those that were wondering, this is why the media portrays us the way they do.

Blacks, in the mind of most, including apparently some bgolers, have no redemptive value.

Whether we’re facing Johnny law, the court system or at work, every error we make should be our last.
Shoot first, maxImum sentence or terminate on site.

Remember the white kid on the board yesterday that raped the drunk girl and the judge referred to his good grades...

Until we are viewed as flawed people who don’t deserve to get shot dead in the street for frivolous infractions,
Stupid statements like the one above will be continued to be made.

Carry on......
He left his family to get murdered. If more men were murdered for cheating on their spouse maybe we wouldn’t have so many fucked up people in this world.

He’s a good man right? I see quotes from ex team mates. Where are the quotes from his family?

His wife was a nurse. She wasn’t some lowly light skin waitress.
 
He had 2 side chicks. Why doesn’t this puff piece have a quote from his wife and children?

all the quotes you need:

http://www.espn.com/espn/feature/st...nessee-titans-legend-steve-mcnair-left-behind




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After burying her husband nearly a decade ago, Mechelle McNair was determined to keep their sons safe and carry on with the business of living. It wasn't always easy.
by Elizabeth Merrill
02/11/18


Her husband would have done things differently. He probably wouldn't have spent most of the summer dreading this moment, standing in front of a college dorm, trying not to cry.

He'd handled everything -- the bills, the taxes, the boys' baseball swings -- until it was just her. And them. But this moment in front of the school is a good one. Nine years after Mechelle McNair's world caved in, her oldest son, Tyler, is going to NYU on an academic scholarship. He didn't just turn out all right. He's going to kick the world's ass.

They are best friends. Maybe they would have been anyway, had Steve McNair not been killed. Tyler tells her everything, even the stuff that can get him grounded. In happy times, they belted out SWV songs in Mechelle's little, red, two-seater Mercedes, his tiny head bobbing to the music. She once took him on a girlfriends-only trip to the Bahamas, and if anyone took issue with it, well, tough. Tyler was her road dog.

In the worst times, she kept both of her little boys beside her in bed, where she could keep them close and safe.

Mechelle is 45 now, and she does not look old enough to be dropping a son off at college. She was slow to trust after her husband's death and never remarried. She already had two men in her in life: Tyler, 19, and Trent, who just turned 14.

They carry pieces of Steve, from Tyler's mannerisms to the way Trent calls people "Buddy." But now one of them is leaving, and Mechelle is just trying not to lose it. The boxes are unpacked, the dorm room is clean, and there is nothing else to do but say goodbye. They hug, and Tyler wants to tell her something before she goes back home to Tennessee. He says she needs to go out more, to have fun sometimes. It surprises her and forces her to ask the inevitable question: Who am I when my kids are grown and gone?

"I look at Tyler," she says, "and he knows exactly what his passion is.

"What's my purpose? What's my passion?"


ON THE MORNING of July 4, 2009, Mechelle McNair woke up with a crushing headache. She stood up, the pain radiated from the right side of her skull, and she had to lie back down. She noticed her husband wasn't home and made a number of phone calls trying to find him. Nobody knew where he was.

She got on the elliptical machine, hoping some exercise would get rid of the headache. It would not go away. She would wonder, later, about signs.

Her mother, Melzena Cartwright, saw the news on TV. Years ago, after Cartwright lost her own husband, Steve had told her to pack her bags and come live with them. When news of his death flashed on the TV screen, Cartwright rushed through the house to Mechelle's room. Mechelle had just found out. "Mama," Mechelle asked, "do you think it's true?"

Steve McNair was born on Valentine's Day, and he died on the Fourth of July. The enormity of his death cannot be overstated. Here was an NFL quarterback one season into retirement, a former co-MVP and a Super Bowl participant, murdered.

Twitter wasn't a factor yet, but there were plenty of media outlets to feed off of the stunning story of a Tennessee football hero killed by 20-year-old Sahel Kazemi, a woman with whom he'd been having an affair.

The Metropolitan Nashville Police Department ruled it a murder-suicide, concluding that Kazemi shot McNair four times -- twice in the head -- in the early morning hours of July 4, most likely while he was sleeping on the couch of his rented condo. Kazemi then lay down beside him and fired a bullet into her head. The tabloids fed off the story and ran photos of McNair vacationing with the young waitress and texts they sent to each other in their final hours.

Everyone wanted to know what Mechelle was feeling. How do you think she was feeling?

"I didn't know about her at all," Mechelle says. "You're going to have people who say, 'Oh, she knew.' Did I know about some other people and some other things? Yes. But did I know about her? No, I did not."

Initially, she did not believe her husband was dead. The man who had taken epidurals and basically crawled around in pain six days a week but somehow played football on Sundays couldn't be gone. She wanted to see him so she could help him.

When it hit her, she fell to the floor, screaming. Her children had never seen her like that.

Tyler, who was 10, started crying. He ran to the kitchen and got a knife. He said he couldn't live without his daddy and wanted to kill himself. Mechelle grabbed him and told him to stop. She said she couldn't bear to lose both of them.

How was she feeling?

[paste:font size="4"]More on Steve McNair
Merrill: The dilemma of how to mourn McNair

NFL home


Just 24 hours earlier, McNair had taken his sons fishing. It was a good day for two little boys who saw their dad as a superhero. He cleaned the fish when they got home that night, washed his truck and began to doze off on the couch.

But his phone kept ringing. He told Mechelle that the alarm was going off at his restaurant, but she knows now that Kazemi was probably the one who called.

He said he had to go, and kissed the boys goodbye.

"Don't go," Tyler and Trent told him.

McNair said he loved them. He kissed Mechelle and told her he loved her, too.

"I'll be back in a little while," he said.



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Nearly 5,000 people mourned McNair at Reed Green Coliseum on the campus of Southern Miss. At the time, it was considered one of the biggest funerals in the state. Trent, pictured right, was 5. He leaned on his mother, Mechelle, and Tyler, at left. GEORGE CLARK/HATTIESBURG AMERICAN POOL/GETTY IMAGES



THE VISION OF a 10-year-old boy holding a knife was like a cold bucket of water in the face. From that moment on, she could not let her children see her break down. She would go to her room, door closed, and sob. She would lean on her friends, who dropped everything to be with her in Nashville, or cry to her aunts and uncles. But her sons were terrified and confused. She would not lose it in front of them.

Steve McNair was buried on a Saturday in his home state of Mississippi. Brett Favre and Ray Lewis and Jay Cutler showed up for the funeral. Trent, who was 5, rested his head on his mother's lap during the service.

She tried to explain to the boys what had happened, the best she could, but Trent wanted to read about his father in the paper. He ran his finger through the print and sounded out the words he knew. He asked how somebody could do this to his daddy.

Mechelle told him she didn't know. She is a spiritual woman who thanks God every morning for waking up and for allowing the rest of her family to wake up, too. God got her through this, she says. God and her friends and family who cooked and took the kids swimming and handled everything. She is thankful for that last day McNair had with the boys and for that night when they argued and made up.

"At the end of the day, that's my husband," she says. "I loved him. I still love him. He was human. He made a mistake. Nothing's going to change how I feel about my husband. He took care of us. He loved us. I do know that. Regardless of how he left here, I know he loved us.

"I can't say that I didn't have my bitter moments. And that I still don't sometimes. But I'm not going to hell blaming somebody or having the hate and animosity in my heart. I'm not going to do it."

THEY MET AT Alcorn State, a historically black college in rural Claiborne County, Mississippi. The closest town, if you want to call it that, is Lorman, a community with one known claim to fame, the Old Country Store, which serves fried chicken that people drive hours for. Mechelle didn't particularly want to go to such a tiny school. She had hoped to go to Southern Miss. But she put off doing the paperwork, and Alcorn was the school that offered her a scholarship.

Freshman year, she had a human anatomy class with McNair, and he spent most of it staring at her. She made faces at him to try to get him to stop. He was quiet until you knew him, and he waited a while to talk to her. The fact that he was the quarterback everyone on campus was talking about held no currency with Mechelle. She wasn't into sports, and she already had a boyfriend.

But McNair was persistent. He sat behind her in class and constantly flirted. He did annoying things, peeking at her test answers, sticking his giant feet on her book bag. Eventually, he grew on her. To Mechelle, he was sort of a gentle giant, romantic enough to hide an engagement ring in a piece of strawberry cake, country enough to skin a deer and cook it up for his teammates.

Before she met McNair, Mechelle never thought she would get married. She had plans. She wanted to be a doctor and wanted one child, but she didn't think much about a partner. She never imagined she'd leave Mississippi after college to move to Houston with a man who had just been selected at No. 3 in the NFL draft. But plans change. They got married in Vicksburg, Mississippi, in 1997, and a year later, Tyler came along.

Although she didn't grow up playing sports, Mechelle quickly acclimated herself to the life of a football wife. Ex-linemen tell stories about how she used to sit in the stands and yell at them to protect her husband. She had plenty to cheer about by the time the franchise moved to Tennessee in 1997. McNair threw for 3,228 yards and 15 touchdowns in '98, and he led the Titans to the Super Bowl a year later.

He was known as one of the toughest men in football, playing through myriad injuries.

"He would just come home and be, like, dead," Tyler says. "He didn't want to do anything. He didn't want to watch TV, didn't want to eat anything. He'd say, 'I just need some rest.'"

There were good times, too. Times when the family would pair up in teams and wrestle, Mechelle and Tyler on one side; Trent and Steve on the other. Times when McNair would take the boys out on his motorcycle and they didn't even need to talk.

"Steve was a good person," Mechelle's mother says. "He was a good dad. There wasn't anything those children wanted that he didn't get for them."



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Though McNair was an NFL quarterback, he never wanted to force football or sports on his children. He told them to find something they loved and to do it well. COURTESY MECHELLE MCNAIR



HE WAS 36 when he died, and he had just opened Gridiron9, a catfish-and-burger joint in north Nashville. In his last days, McNair seemed overwhelmed at times, almost as if he was at a crossroads, Mechelle says. He was still trying to figure out his world outside of football.

He split time between his home in Nashville and his farm in Collins, Mississippi. He felt comfortable in the country, near his siblings and his mother, Lucille. (McNair also has two older sons from previous relationships.) The transition from football player to businessman was not smooth. The last full conversation he had with Mechelle centered on the restaurant's nightly receipts constantly being off and her desire to help. She was so happy at the end of their talk, when he said she could attend the next employee meeting. McNair had dreams of his restaurant becoming a chain. A few months after his death, the restaurant was sold.

He did not have a will, creating a painful mess that dragged on for years. In 2011, a legal spat between Mechelle and Lucille over property in Mississippi played out in the local news media. Mechelle had always considered herself a private person. But after Steve's death, the most intimate details of her life were fodder for public consumption. Conspiracy theorists flooded the internet and airwaves. A "True Crimes with Aphrodite Jones" episode filmed in 2013 even pointed suspicion at her. (She was never a suspect). That same show aired as a rerun last week, on the night of the Super Bowl.

Aside from kid functions and dinners out, she lived the life of a homebody. She had one job: to raise their sons.


WHEN A PARENT dies young and leaves behind children, people make promises. Mechelle could handle algebra and first crushes, but sometimes, a boy needs a male figure in his life. There were many people at McNair's funeral who vowed to be there for Tyler and Trent. A handful of them delivered.

Former Titans Chris Johnson and Vince Young took the boys to the locker room, just as their dad had done. Ex-Tennessee tight end Bo Scaife filled Tyler's closet with sneakers.

Then there was Mike Mu, a longtime family friend who used to run McNair's foundation. Mu was the one who took them to father-son breakfasts and NBA games. Sometimes on the Fourth of July, he picked up the kids and bought fireworks and did anything that took their minds off the anniversary.

The boys call Mu "Uncle Mike." Every season, Mechelle sends Trent's basketball schedule to Mu and to Zach Piller.

Piller, a former guard for the Titans, was one of McNair's pallbearers. Nine years later, it's still hard for him to talk about McNair. Offensive linemen spend their careers protecting the quarterback, and Piller couldn't. But he could be there for McNair's boys. Piller downplays his involvement. He says that McNair would do the same thing for him, and that what he does isn't much. Tyler disagrees.

"He was the first person to come," Tyler says. "He was the first one saying how proud he was of me and how proud my dad would be."



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McNair was known as one of the toughest players in the NFL. His good friend Zach Piller, right, protected him on the field and served as one of his pallbearers. GEORGE GOJKOVICH/GETTY IMAGES



Mechelle appreciates the little things, such as the neighbor who used to replace the boys' basketball net whenever it looked worn, or the random texts Piller sends to the boys to ask how it's going.

Sports was always one of the tougher areas for Mechelle to navigate. She never played. When McNair was alive, if one of the boys was struggling with a batting stance or a shot, he could go outside, spend 30 minutes with him and get it figured out. "I know he's in his head," Steve would tell Mechelle. "I know what he's thinking. I've been there."

The pressure to be Steve McNair's son weighs heavily. The boys are constantly chasing a ghost, a man who, in death, is still the biggest sports legend in Nashville.

In the winter of 2016, Tyler was one of the best basketball players at Brentwood Academy, a Christian school with a powerhouse basketball program. He was a tenacious defender who helped his team win two state championships. There was one problem: His heart wasn't in it anymore, and he wanted to dance instead. Dance was his release, a way of working through his emotions. He tried to do both at first, but soon it was too much.

He felt pressure from fans, students and coaches to stay on the basketball team. At first, Mechelle thought he should stick it out. She knew how much potential he had.

But when she saw how committed Tyler was to dance, she told him to do what makes him happy. Tyler believes it's the same thing his dad would have said. He never forced his sons to play sports. He told them to find something they loved and do it well.

"Honestly, the most I've ever felt like a child is this year," Tyler says. "I'm finally doing something I love, and I was happy year-round. I got to dance all the time, I got to travel, and I got into the college I wanted to. It's the most I've felt like a regular person, like nothing has happened."

PILLER WENT TO one of Trent's basketball games recently, and the younger McNair didn't disappoint. According to Piller, Trent hit five 3-pointers. Piller likes to mess with Trent sometimes and tells him he could probably jump higher if he'd cut his long hair.

Trent will put his hands on his hips and walk to the bench, and it reminds Piller of Steve heading to the huddle. He sees flashes of his friend, and it helps him stay close to him. Trent is headstrong and stubborn and has a bit of a temper. Mechelle sits in the stands and yells at him to "keep your face straight." She thinks he shows his emotions too much.

"She's very vocal," Trent says. "Most of the time I really don't hear it that much, but when I do, it's a little bit embarrassing. I'm used to it by now. If I'm playing football and I hear her, I kind of just ignore it. But if I'm playing basketball, I kind of look up there and tell her to sshhhhh."

Trent shows flashes of great talent at quarterback, but he won't play the position. He doesn't believe anyone can play quarterback as well as his father did, so why even try?

As they enter new stages of their lives, they wonder what their father would think. Tyler graduated from Brentwood in the spring. He pictured his dad sitting in a pew, his leg sticking out in the aisle because the seat was too small for his giant body. He could see McNair smiling and telling his boy, "Good job, Buddy."



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Tyler, right, and Trent served as honorary 12th Titans in a November game against the Baltimore Ravens. WADE PAYNE/AP PHOTO



ON A RECENT winter afternoon, Mechelle is sitting in the dining room of their house in the hills of Nashville, waiting to pick Trent up from school. Christmas break is over, and the house is quiet.

Tyler came home for about a month, but he wasn't really there. He was catching up with friends and hanging out at Waffle House at 2 in the morning. That drove Mechelle nuts, the waking up in the middle of the night. She always worried where he was.

When he's at school, he FaceTimes with her at least once a day, so it's almost as if she sees him more when he's in New York. When he headed back east after winter break, Trent refused to go to the airport because he didn't want to cry. The boys are so close that Trent sleeps in Tyler's bed when he's at college. It's his way of being around his brother still. He pushed an air mattress beside Tyler's bed when his brother was home and slept there.

Mechelle is asked whether she thinks they'd be this close had McNair lived.

"Nope," she says. "I think that [Trent] would be attached to his dad."

Everyone changed. Tyler, who is majoring in biology at NYU while continuing to pursue his dancing dreams, forged a path so different from his father's. Mechelle found strength and independence she never thought she had.

In 2013, she sold their 13,000-square-foot house and moved to a smaller home. The house actually had been on the market before McNair died, but then the housing crisis hit, and it bounced on and off the listings for four years. Pat Boone, a singer from the 1950s, eventually bought the home.

The old home had too many memories. Mechelle says she could hear Steve's footsteps in the house sometimes. She and her sons settled into a house surrounded by trees and the occasional deer that plops down in the middle of the yard. She keeps McNair's football memorabilia in the basement, where Trent dribbles his basketball and Tyler practices his dance moves.

Time, if you handle it right, has a way of filtering out the bad memories but leaving the good. This past summer, Mechelle and her sons visited Lucille in Mississippi. It had been a long time since they'd been there. Tyler and Trent immediately flipped into kid mode, running around with their cousins, sprawling out on sleeping bags at bedtime, swearing they'd stay up all night. It was just like 2009. Before everything changed.

"I think it was important for [Lucille] because you see a part of your son you lost," Mechelle says. "I can deal with not having Steve here a lot more because I see him still every day in his boys."

Mechelle knows life will change again soon, when Trent gets his driver's license. He will want to spend more time with his friends, not his mom. Eventually, there will be more goodbyes.

She doesn't want to be a hindrance to him. She never worried about that with Tyler, but for some reason, she thinks about it now that it's just her and Trent.

"I don't want him to look at me and say, 'Oh, my mom is just kind of relaxed,'" she says. "I don't think he's doing that, but I want him to see me doing something where he feels like he has a drive."

She thinks about the next chapter in her life. She received her degree in nursing years ago. Maybe she could do that. She has thought about becoming a foster parent. She loves taking care of people.

"I don't want to be alone," she says. "When I think about it, I don't want to be old and not have anybody to spend my last days with. Right now, my mom's here with me, but like when Trent's gone off to school and meets somebody, and then my mom, who knows how long -- I'm not saying who's going to go before who because that's not necessarily true -- but she's older.

"I mean, I'm here by myself. I don't want to be here by myself. I don't. And I don't feel like that's how God wants us to be."

She is dating someone, but meeting people has been a struggle. She doesn't want to go through any more pain. She says she protects her heart and her kids. Sometimes, when she's rushing to a game or going to Bible study, it hits her -- the absence of tears and drama, the return to normal. Their normal.

"[People] always say, 'Oh, I admire you so much. You're so strong,'" Mechelle says. "That word will always get to me. When people say that to me, I'm always like, 'Where are they getting this from?' I feel like I'm the weakest person sometimes. Because I hurt like everybody else.

"I feel like I'm just living. I'm just pushing forward. I can't wallow in it. I've gotta keep going."

E:60's John Minton III and Ryan Smith contributed to this report.
 
And for those that were wondering, this is why the media portrays us the way they do.

Blacks, in the mind of most, including apparently some bgolers, have no redemptive value.

Whether we’re facing Johnny law, the court system or at work, every error we make should be our last.
Shoot first, maxImum sentence or terminate on site.

Remember the white kid on the board yesterday that raped the drunk girl and the judge referred to his good grades...

Until we are viewed as flawed people who don’t deserve to get shot dead in the street for frivolous infractions,
Stupid statements like the one above will be continued to be made.

Carry on......

It's a CAc...ain't no brah ever gonna speak like that...we need to eradicate all these spineless cowards out of here..brah
 
I’m going to presume you cheat on your wife right?

Who said I was married? I ain't wishing death on none of my Kings...Fuck a CAc and how they feel..I knew McNair personally...he did more for Mississippi..then anyone else I know..this is personal for me..and don't worry bout my personal shit...I'm good..I'm gonna kill before I'm killed..brah
 
Shit, if McNair could manage it, he could’ve had 100 side pieces and I wouldn’t give a shit.

His problem was getting caught up with a chick that was young and dumb. Despite all that, I still don’t think she did it.

Fools in here saying he should’ve been killed for a piece of pussy are about as simp as you can get.

A Mayne should die because of that? U fuckin crazy....it's so much more to be said..but I'm not wasti6 my time on you..brah
 
I said it then and I say it now: he got what he deserved. Left his wife on a holiday to go knock down a waitress.

Let’s ask his widow how she feels.
do you think sidepieces that know nigs got significant others should die to? How about broads that cheat do you think they should die to? What about females that use nigs even though they don't really like them do you think they should die to? Juss seeing if your death sentence are giving out fairly or juss one sided
 
There will always be mistresses but the trick is to let them know to play their position from the beginning and you will be fine. You also don't spoil them excessively.
That's the mistake that he made. He gave her the key to a town house, told her he would divorce his wife,expensive vacations with pictures, and he bought her an Escalade and shit....etc

Damnnn..yeah he fucked up by giving her more than dick. You start giving a woman all that shit she thinks she’s more than just a side piece and that you actually care about her. She falls in love and then you start talking about “it’s over”, she’s not gonna take it well...smh
 
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