Two weeks ago, we started a dialogue in this space about honor and dishonor, good and bad, black and white, heroes and villains. It all goes hand-in-hand with my Magazine feature on Terrell Owens. This is the second in a three-part series.

I don't think any current athlete straddles the line between hero and villain like Terrell Owens does. And I don't think there's any athlete who's more difficult for people -- especially people in the press box -- to understand. Too often, the media's dislike of anyone who's "different" casts Owens as villain. That's just wrong.

Last October, after Owens posed on the Cowboys' logo in the middle of Texas Stadium, the media reacted with personal attacks. One Dallas columnist called Owens "a no-class jerk who disgraced himself." Another called it "blatant, premeditated self promotion." All this because he celebrated a touchdown in a football game? I fail to see the offense that warrants such harsh words.

A friend of mine writes for a Bay Area newspaper. When I told him I was writing a story on Terrell, he replied. "Sometimes he's just a lovely person. Other times he's a real pain in the ass." That's a perfect description. It's perfect because I can say the same for pretty much everyone I know -- including my girlfriend, whom I love dearly.

Owens' current feud with Steve Mariucci fits nicely into the "pain in the ass" file. I'm not gonna say it's a good thing to fight with your coach in public. Nor am I a Terrell Owens apologist. Sure, I'm desensitized to this kind of bickering because I know it's a part of every meeting room. As much as the rank-and-file fan wants his sport to fit some corporate standard, coaches and players rarely seek refuge in an office to avoid confrontation. Football is a machine that's fueled by emotion, and the parts are combustible.

Even guys who seem familiar with each other have been known to lose it. Remember Steve Young's infamous tirade against George Seifert, or former Giants QB Phil Simms' red-faced soliloquy against Bill Parcells on Monday Night Football?

I like Terrell Owens. I see someone whose passion leads him to openly weep on occasion. I see someone who doesn't understand why that post-touchdown gesture caused such a stir. I see someone who gets burned by his own competitive fire. I see someone who thought only criminal activity should make one a villain. And I see someone who desperately wants to be accepted, but not if it means speaking in a softer voice and becoming someone else.

I see someone to whom I can relate.

But the same can't be said for most of the sports media. I think Owens could put up Jerry Rice stats and never bask in a Cal Ripken-like glow of familiarity with the boys in the press box. I'm not saying the white-male-driven media is racist. I'm saying that just because a guy's personal style isn't familiar to you, it doesn't' make him any less of a decent person or professional.

I recently spoke with Dr. Harry Edwards, renowned sports sociologist and consultant to the 49ers. "The general tone of sportswriting is set by a group that oftentimes has little or no knowledge of black culture," he says. "They don't know black people beyond what they've garnered through talking to and writing about black athletes."

Edwards says that's especially clear in the imaging of Terrell Owens. "For the press to come in and level a virtual character crusade against him, told me more about them, than it ever would tell me about him," he says.

I learned about Terrell Owens by talking to him. When I told him that same Dallas columnist suggested Jerry Rice would never do something like preen after a score, Owens' reply struck a chord with me. "I'm not trying to be the next Jerry Rice," he said. "I'm already Terrell Owens."

That's not the sound of arrogance. That's the sound of someone who knows the priceless value of his own identity. He'd love Rice's longevity, but he doesn't want to actually be Jerry Rice. He wants to be accepted on his own terms, or not at all.

I can respect that.

Next: Michael Jordan. Hero?

Alan Grant, a former NFL defensive back, writes football for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at alan.grant@espnmag.com.