The Cincinnati Enquirer

On Wednesday, Corey Dillon offered a familiar, ridiculous, No Respect rant that he concluded by saying, "I want out."

Yeah?

Who doesn't?

Who, at some point in his average, working-Joe life, doesn't want to stiff-arm the world and take a fast boat to Cabo San Lucas? The difference between Corey Dillon and most of the rest of us is, we deal with it. That's why they call it work.

Memo to Corey: Deal with it.

It's so old, isn't it? This demand from yet another pro athlete for respect and appreciation is so tired, it's lying there on the floor, sleeping like a hibernating bear. Every so often, we try to attach real-world qualities to star athletes. Every time, they show us how foolish we are.

Who gets respect? Me? You? Do people walk up to you daily and tell you you're wonderful? The guess is, Corey Dillon has heard he's wonderful more in the past six years than all the rest of us combined. Not to mention the $18.5 million worth of respect he's made from the Bengals in the last three years, as part of the team's five-year, $26 million non-appreciation contribution to his bottom line.

So enough already with the respect and appreciation. We respect you, Corey. We appreciate you. You're a prince. All right? Now please strap it on and gain some yards Sunday.

That should be the end of it. But it isn't. Dillon has put his coach in a bad spot. The Bengals' would-be best player has made himself their biggest problem, at a time when the team doesn't need problems. The Bengals are dancing on the contender-pretender fence. They're facing a telling run of games in the next month.

This is a young, improving team. You have, to borrow a phrase, 52 players trying to pull the oxcart from the ditch. And one who wants to ditch the oxcart. If you're Marvin Lewis, you have a problem. Lewis needs Dillon. But Dillon is challenging much of what the coach preaches, lives and holds dear: Teamwork, unselfishness, the importance of keeping grievances private.

And there is this: If Lewis suggests, as he has to this point, that it's just Corey being Corey, he better be ready to afford the same courtesy to every other player who selfishly pops off.

Lewis distanced himself from Dillon's rant again yesterday, conveniently saying Dillon's only fight was with the heathen media. That would be accurate if the media were calling plays.

Believe what you want.

Fact is, if Lewis wants to keep the complete credibility he currently enjoys in Bengaldom, he needs to do more about this than kill messengers. You can't emphasize team while allowing one player to mention himself 51 times in one interview, as Dillon did in a rant on the team's Web site Thursday.

The Bengals had just won a huge game. Quarterback Jon Kitna, Dillon's biggest defender, had his best game of the season. How hard would it be for Dillon to respect his mates, appreciate what's going on and keep his me-first junk in house?

Look: The guy has been a great player here. He has been cursed to play on some of the worst teams in the history of the NFL, for willfully clueless ownership and puppet coaches. For six years, Dillon gave everyone in this beaten-down football town a reason to cheer. Everybody understands that. But things are changing for the good. It's time Dillon hopped on the boat and grabbed an oar.

No one has disrespected Dillon. Twenty-nine-year-old running backs who enjoy lots of contact and average 287 carries a year are going to be wondered about, when they start missing lots of time. That's a fact of NFL life, whether you're Corey Dillon or Eddie George.

Half of Dillon's nearly 8,000 yards have come after the first hit. Give him credit for that. Also, understand that runners who make careers out of taking glancing blows - Tony Dorsett, Eric Dickerson, Barry Sanders - last longer than those who dance chest to chest: George, Earl Campbell, Jerome Bettis. And Corey Dillon.

The Bengals have been budget-conscious forever. If they think they can save dollars without seriously compromising the product, they'll do it. Every time. An Enquirer story speculating on Dillon's release after this year, with two years left on his deal, might strike a nerve. But it's legit.

A player of unsurpassed toughness on the field, Dillon is mentally porcelain off it. He's easily offended and seriously thin-skinned. He needs to deal with it. It'd be nice if Lewis sat Dillon on Sunday, at least for the opening series. He probably won't. He needs Dillon too much.

Ultimately, then, it's up to Dillon. Lord knows, we don't ask much of our pro jocks now. Play hard and be a good teammate. That about sums it up. Don't put your coach in a spot he doesn't deserve. Don't make your teammates choose sides. When you get the ball, run hard with it. It will be appreciated.

E-mail pdaugherty@enquirer.com