The Tyreek Hill incident shows once again that “imprisonment” does not correspond to the crime

They called it “uncooperative.” And it was. But what does “uncooperative” really mean?

Non-compliant? Not complicit? Not white? Not law-abiding? Unreasonable? Got it?

The ever-falseness of American life when it comes to class, race, and the law repositioned itself again last week. This time while driving a $300,000-$350,000 McLaren 720S. While I was a block away from my workplace, which happened to be an NFL stadium where police patrolled. While I was the best player on the team, the best player at his position in the NFL, nominated for MVP before his injury last season. While I was a guaranteed future Hall of Famer. While I drove 60 mph in a 30 mph zone. While I disobeyed a direct order. While I told the police what not to do. Or demanded what not to do. While I put my self-importance above my personal safety. While I didn't bow to authority. While I didn't give in. While I was, of course, black.

A quiet agreement, an argument over a rolled-up window, a superstar with a guaranteed net worth of $106.5 million ($30 million a year) lying facedown on the concrete, knee on his back, surrounded by four Miami-Dade police officers, one of whom, of course, told him to “stop crying.” John William Smith. Rodney King. Philando Castile. Tyre Nichols. George Floyd. Let's all take a deep breath. Now…

What happened to Tyreek Hill in his recent encounter with Florida's finest has been viewed differently by different groups of people who view the same thing differently based on their societal standing, experience, history, bias, privilege and nuance. See, what Hill shouldn't have said was, “Do what you gotta do.” Because that's what they did. What the officials shouldn't have done was say (in one of their loud voices), “That's Tyreek Hill.” Because that significantly eliminated the danger, considering where they were at the time and the time: Less than three hours before kickoff on a road that Dolphins players travel on game days to get to the stadium.

One had a job to do, the other had a job to get to. Guess who was who in this scenario? Well…

This is where the discomfort lies. It is not with the police's treatment of Hill, but with the expected behavior of the one who is viewed and labeled as the “perpetrator.” As if in the history of black men and police brutality, the “right” actions of the “perpetrator” made the difference in the outcome. The five men named above may not have been 110% obedient in the eyes of society and the law, but they 100% did not deserve what law enforcement gave them in return.

In other words: Obey, boy, or something will happen. Or: Disobey, boy, or something will happen. Now…

The match between optics and reality. They are drastically different when we look at, for example, Scottie Scheffler's situation and Hill's. Because they occurred only 114 days apart and involved two different sports in two different locations, the two eerily similar circumstances can easily be used to illustrate the violent nature of one “misunderstanding” between police and a professional athlete.

Because in the case of Scheffler—who, according to the police report, also “refused to comply with a police order” (and “demanded to be let onto the golf course”) and who was arrested, charged and sent to jail (which was not the case with Hill)—there was, of course, no excessive, overtly physical and aggressive use of force or dehumanization during his encounter. When he pleaded with someone to “please help” him, of course none of the officers on the scene told him to “stop crying.” Additionally, while a reporter on the scene was trying to figure out what was going on and tell officers who Scheffler was—much like Hill’s teammate Calais Campbell—ESPN’s Jeff Darlington (who also happened to be in Miami covering the Dolphins game last week) was of course not handcuffed after being asked to leave by police, unlike Campbell.

Is it because golf is seen as more civilized than football? Is it because the PGA and its players carry a different stigma than the NFL and its players? Or, may I ask, is there something else behind it? Something much deeper?

Sometimes in life, over generations, you get tired of always being the one who is marginalized. Not for who you are or what you do, but for how you should always behave and react. History fatigue sets in. This naturally distorts views and conventional rationality. In the Hill matter: Why must perfection in behavior and circumstances be attributed specifically to him? To us? To those whom society unconditionally regards as a threat, but who are often less wrong than the wrong done to them by the law. When the “imprisonment” does not fit the crime.

The degradation of ourselves, even when not entirely justified, in the face of and under pressure from those who find power and meaning in elevating themselves by trying to make us less than human, is the definition of uncivilized. That we were once hung from trees as a national pastime should put that last comment into perspective. But it won't. Still, I know what I cannot live with, just as I know what I am willing to die for. Now…

There is injustice and there is more injustice. When it comes to incidents like Hill's, most people don't recognize the injustice, they just believe that the injustice would not have even had a chance to exist or come to life if it had not been preceded by an initial injustice. Most of these people think that the injustice does not exist because they have never had to experience it. Of course.