CINCINNATI -- Because Ki-Jana Carter can't seem to take a hint, the Cincinnati Bengals have stopped being subtle.
Having failed to cajole their $19 million running back into maintaining better playing shape, they have decided to confront him. Two years after making Carter the No. 1 pick in the NFL draft, the Bengals spent a second-round choice Saturday on a possible replacement.
They chose University of Washington tailback Corey Dillon -- and in so doing, effectively declared the featured-back gig up for grabs. Much as Bengals decision-makers might have preferred to use their early picks on other positions, they find no comfort in Carter.
"Ki-Jana Carter can be as good as he wants to be," Bengals general manager Mike Brown said. "If he steps up and works as hard as he needs to, he can be a superb player in the NFL. ... (But) he has to learn that he has to work hard in the off-season, that he has a full-time, year-round job."
Brown chooses his words with the care of a Harvard lawyer, which he is, but his patience is plainly dwindling.
WHEN CARTER TORE HIS ANTERIOR cruciate ligament in a 1995 preseason game, the Bengals were resigned to a lengthy rehabilitation. Even last fall, a year after Carter's surgery, Brown claimed Garrison Hearst and his seven-figure contract off waivers rather than rely too heavily on Carter too soon.
But now, the Bengals expect results, and what they see is sloth. Carter reported overweight to a recent minicamp and had evidently done so little off-season conditioning that one Bengals official derisively referred to him as "the Sega champion of the NFL."
"I'm kind of laid-back," Carter said in a conference call with reporters Sunday. "When it gets down to training camp, that's when I turn it up. They want me to work out hard from January on. Some people are different. I guess we'll just see how it goes. If it goes fine, maybe they won't say anything anymore."
The trouble with guaranteed contracts is they don't guarantee that a player's effort will equal a team's expenditure. For every Jerry Rice, there are dozens of professional athletes who regard the concept of a day's work for a day's pay as a formula for fools.
"It's a lot harder to get up in the morning," said Eddie Arcaro, the great jockey, "when you start wearing silk pajamas."
KI-JANA CARTER SEEMED EARNEST enough when he left Penn State, and his talent was so dazzling that draft analysts were inclined to accept his drive as an article of faith. Because of the knee injury, Carter might never be all he might have been in the NFL. The Bengals' concern is that he does not appear determined to be all he still can be.
"I didn't want to run all off-season, to save the wear and tear on my leg," Carter explained. "Maybe (the Bengals) don't agree with that. I'm trying to save my body. I'm trying to be around for awhile."
All running backs aspire to longevity, but the ones who last are usually the ones who produce. Ki-Jana Carter's contribution last season consisted of 264 yards on 91 carries, a 2.9-yard average. When Bruce Coslet assumed command of the team in midseason, he consigned Carter largely to short-yardage duty. He scored nine touchdowns but did not log more than eight carries in any game after Sept. 15.
Such a player might think he had something to prove -- or at least a contract to justify. Yet when the Bengals look to Ki-Jana Carter to get himself in gear, what they see is cruise control.
Mike Brown says Carter responds to a challenge, but it was not wishful thinking so much as mounting anxiety that prompted the second-round selection of Corey Dillon.
The Bengals are not convinced Ki-Jana Carter is a bust. But neither are they convinced that he isn't.
Tim Sullivan is a sports columnist for The Cincinnati Enquirer.
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