You remember OJ, right? My father-in-law was the head athletic trainer (medical treatment for and prevention of injuries, not weight room stuff) for the Buffalo Bills for 37 years, from the first season in 1960 through 1997 when he retired. Obviously he knew OJ as well as everyone else who's ever even been camp fodder - the guy's a walking encyclopedic history of the team.
Anyway, OJ has the infamous slow speed chase. The next morning at about 7AM we're having breakfast (I was living with them at the time) when CRASH the framed, autographed picture of my f-i-l and OJ falls off the wall in the other room. The string it was hung with broke cleanly in the middle, as though cut with a knife. Creepy.
Scott
