We snapped to attention

At times it felt like something out of a ``Naked Gun" movie. It also was mildly reminiscent of O.J.'s white Bronco police chase, this time with Deion Sanders playing the role of Al Cowlings.

How would any of us explain this to a foreign visitor? There was a report that Terrell Owens, a professional football player in Dallas, had been rushed to a hospital and may have tried to kill himself by overdosing on pills. And the sports world stopped.

Circus coverage. It was downright ridiculous. ESPN dumped out of regularly scheduled programming and ever-capable Bob Ley anchored the desk, parsing out bits of information like Walter Cronkite in the minutes and hours after the Kennedy assassination. Owens had been rushed to a Dallas hospital Tuesday evening and a leaked police report indicated that T.O. might have intentionally overdosed. It said he answered ``yes" when asked if he was trying to harm himself. There were reports of Owens ingesting 35 painkiller pills. Pro football experts assumed the role of armchair psychologists and we heard that Owens never knew his father, even though the man lived across the street from him in the early years of his life. There was talk of Owens's alleged depression and mental health issues. ESPN analyst Mark Schlereth talked of how the Cowboys might ``honor" Owens and rally 'round this moment.

As if we were talking about the late Pat Tillman.

After practice, Cowboys coach Bill Parcells took questions for about nine minutes and spoke for millions when he said, ``I don't know anything. I've got to get a little clearer picture of what it is . . . I've got to find out what the hell is going on."

Parcells can play stupid better than our Bill Belichick. The Big Tuna invented intentionally obtuse. It's in his personal playbook, right alongside ``make yourself the lone voice of the franchise even if you have laryngitis."

Just after 3:30 p.m. yesterday, Owens sat in front of a microphone and denied that he tried to kill himself. He said he'd mixed painkillers with all-natural supplements. He said he had no recall of his response to the first-responders when they asked him if he'd tried to harm himself. Looking fresh and healthy, he said he'd just come in from the practice field, where he'd been playing catch with Drew Bledsoe.

When T.O. was done, his nitwit publicist, Kim Etheredge, took a seat, and said, ``I feel they [police, media?] take advantage of Terrell."

She finished with this classic: ``Terrell has 25 million reasons why he should be alive."

Owens is in the first year of a three-year, $25 million contract with the Cowboys.

So there you have it. A new low in TV tabloid journalism. James Frey is reportedly already at work on events of the day.

By dinnertime, the nonstory of the nonsuicide attempt was a national punchline. Big joke. It was the modern-day equal of Geraldo Rivera cracking open Al Capone's vault to find . . . nothing.

We're never going to know the real story, of course. Only Owens really knows what happened. We know he loves attention. But it's hard to believe he would stoop to these depths just to make himself a bigger story. The tape of Etheredge's 911 call might shed more light on this and you can be sure the Dallas and Philadelphia media will produce said audio within a few hours.

But why do we care?

Owens is a gifted athlete. He's a better pass catcher than Reche Caldwell, Doug Gabriel, or Chad Jackson. He can play with pain and he had a big-time game against the Patriots in the Super Bowl two seasons ago.

But his selfishness puts others in need of painkillers. Ask Steve Mariucci, Dennis Erickson, or Andy Reid. Ask Parcells. They need double shots of painkillers because Owens is the all-time pain in the gluteus maximus.

Owens has ripped his coaches. He intimated that one of his quarterbacks was gay. He danced on the Dallas star when he was a 49er. He blasted Donovan McNabb. He has held out and been fined for missing meetings. He craves the spotlight like no one this side of the insufferable Bill O'Reilly.

But he does not seem to be a liar and there is really no reason to doubt his story from the strange Tuesday night. In the end, Terrell Owens is an entertainer, not that much different from Paris Hilton, Tom Cruise, or Mel Gibson. He is flawed, just like the rest of us. He needs attention and we provide. Never more than yesterday.

The Cowboys play at Philadelphia Oct. 8. Think anyone will be watching that one?

Dan Shaughnessy is a Globe columnist. His e-mail address is dshaughnessy@globe.com.