As you're planning your Super Bowl party this year, give a thought to future Hall of Famer Terrell Owens. He's out of work, out of money, and currently in court with all four of his baby mamas. And now for the part that really depresses him: For the first time in his long, checkered, and spectacular career, nobody wants to throw him the ball
by Nancy Hass
Photograph by Peter Yang
February 2012

Terrell Owens doesn't want to bowl alone.

On a weekday night just before Thanksgiving, he's seated at a banquet-sized dining table in his three-bedroom Los Angeles condo, Real Wives of Whatever blaring on the flat-screen in the living room a few feet away. He looks at his phone, hoping for a text from the pals he's been trying to hook up with for weeks. He wants to meet at the lanes nearby for a few frames and some laughs, but it's looking bad again tonight. "People get busy, you know," he says. His lean legs twitch; the famously cut six-foot-three frame, still impossibly taut at almost 38, bends slightly back in the chair like a loaded catapult. He's wearing a hoodie and basketball shorts, and his earlobes glisten with the dime-sized diamond discs he's worn for years.

Bowling is his escape, one he wishes had been there for him on those sweaty teenage nights in the Alabama town where he grew up, skinny and unpopular, so dark-skinned that the other black kids razzed him nonstop, and later, to take the edge off marathon weight-lifting sessions at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga. He learned to bowl for a charity event early in his stint with the 49ers, and he hit the lanes whenever he could during the fifteen seasons he spent in the NFL, racking up stats that make him one of the greatest wide receivers in league history—second only to Jerry Rice in career receiving yards—and a likely first-ballot Hall of Famer. Bowling is chill, especially for a guy like him who never did like the clubs, never drank much or bothered with drugs. And a massive chill is what Owens—idle, adrift, desperate for cash, fending off rumors about his mental health—needs right now. Bad.

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