MARINOVICH WAS ON HEROIN

GQ Article Recounts His Drug Use In '99 Vancouver Sojourn

Shortly into the great Todd Marinovich project, it was obvious to the B.C.
Lions that something was wrong.

Marinovich, the former Oakland Raiders first-rounder who'd been brought in
to back up Damon Allen, was showing up late for quarterback meetings. Or
sleeping through them. Or blowing them off altogether. "He had the attitude
he didn't really care," Allen said.

"We just thought he was smoking B.C. pot or something," said Daved Benefield.

Marinovich, in fact, never made an impact on the Lions, never saw live
action in a regular-season game and was released after the '99 season.

At the time it seemed kind of weird, because the Lions had had big plans
for Marinovich.

In the light of a new day, however, it's more understandable, especially
when you consider Marinovich was a full-time junkie while he was with the
Lions.

In the most recent issue of GQ, writer Peter Richmond details Marinovich's
five-year battle with heroin, which reportedly started when the former
Southern Cal star was still with the NFL's Raiders, continued through his
year with the Lions and was halted some time this year when Marinovich
finally kicked it.

The article isn't forthcoming on details, and attempts to reach Marinovich
weren't successful.

But Richmond wrote that Marinovich was injecting heroin six to eight times
a day while he was in Vancouver, bought cosmetics to cover the track marks
on his "golden arm," and wore long-sleeved sweatshirts for the same reason.

"This was easy in Vancouver," Richmond wrote. "Not only was the drug
readily available but one of its many gifts is that you can function when
you're using ... so long as you've had some practice. And in British
Columbia that's all Todd had to do -- practice."

"I'm not surprised," said Winnipeg (and former Lions) offensive lineman Moe
Elewonibi, Marinovich's closest friend on the Leos, who's also undergone
successful rehab for drug addiction.

"He kept that side from me, but he and I were doing a lot of the same
things -- painkillers, alcohol. I never did heroin, but I was probably
headed down that road."

Marinovich, it seems, was successful in keeping that side from most of the
Lions. Prior to the '99 season, he told GM Adam Rita he was looking for an
opportunity to revive his career.

He then worked out with Lions wide receiver Alfred Jackson in southern
California under the eye of Marinovich's father Marv, a personal trainer
who'd groomed his son to be a quarterback.

Vancouver and Marinovich, however, proved to be an unhealthy mix once the
'99 season started.

The quarterback was essentially brought in to knock Khari Jones out of the
No. 2 spot behind Allen, but quickly lost interest.

Offensive lineman Dan Payne said: "He was always off in his own little
world. He wasn't a part of team functions."

Benefield said: "I just looked at him like he was a stoner."

Rita and Allen also tried talking to Marinovich. But they should have saved
their breath.

Marinovich was so enamoured of the Vancouver heroin scene that he stayed in
the city after the '99 season before Elewonibi drove him to Los Angeles.
There, Marinovich's parents attempted to put him in rehab. Elewonibi, who
returned to B.C. after the trip and sought help for his own addictions,
said Marinovich wasn't "100 per cent clean" when he last saw him.

Informed the GQ article said Marinovich had been sober for four months,
Elewonibi said simply: "I'm happy for Todd."

Allen, for his part, can only shake his head over Marinovich. As the
Raiders' first-round draft choice, Marinovich was given opportunities Allen
has dreamed of in his 17-year CFL career. Allen has pledged his heart and
soul to the game, has worked like a farmer throughout his career and never
had as much as a courtesy call from the NFL.

Marinovich had it all served to him on a platter and threw it away because
he wanted to get high.

Allen has a hard time understanding that choice. "I tried to help him, but
it comes to the point where a guy has to help himself," Allen said.

At 32, Marinovich finally seems to have done that.

You might say it's about time.