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Scorecard
Tim Layden
February 07, 2000
Teed Up For Trouble Sebastian Janikowski jeopardizes his future in the NFL and the U.S. On the one hand, Sebastian Janikowski is a gifted athlete with a dry wit and a clear vision of his future: Make the NFL and earn enough money to bring his mother, Halina, to the U.S. from their native Poland. On the other he's a flat-out party animal, a 260-pound eating, drinking and fighting machine. It's clear that Janikowski, the former Florida State placekicker (SI, Dec. 20), can't grow old as both of these characters.
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February 07, 2000

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Teed Up For Trouble
Sebastian Janikowski jeopardizes his future in the NFL and the U.S.

On the one hand, Sebastian Janikowski is a gifted athlete with a dry wit and a clear vision of his future: Make the NFL and earn enough money to bring his mother, Halina, to the U.S. from their native Poland. On the other he's a flat-out party animal, a 260-pound eating, drinking and fighting machine. It's clear that Janikowski, the former Florida State placekicker (SI, Dec. 20), can't grow old as both of these characters.

In the early hours of Jan. 23, Janikowski was arrested in Tallahassee for allegedly attempting to bribe a police officer, a third-degree felony. For Janikowski, who police say offered an off-duty cop working as a bouncer $300 not to arrest his roommate after a dispute at a bar, it was at least his third incident involving police since he came to Florida State in the fall of 1997, and by far the most serious. A conviction not only might discourage NFL teams from making him the first kicker in 21 years to be drafted in the first round but might also complicate his attempt to gain U.S. citizenship.

Michael Kundid, Janikowski's immigration lawyer, says he holds a green card that doesn't expire until 2007. (Contrary to published reports, Janikowski isn't in the U.S. on a student visa, which would have expired when he withdrew from Florida State after the season.) He applied for citizenship last spring, and according to Kundid, "Everything was going along according to normal procedures. If he is convicted of something, that could change." In extreme cases, a felony conviction can result in deportation. Janikowski was expected to be formally charged this week.

People close to Janikowski say he's harmless, if immature. "You can't help but like him," says Seminoles coach Bobby Bowden, which is partly why Bowden didn't suspend Janikowski when he was the only Florida State player to miss a New Year's Eve curfew before the Sugar Bowl.

Last spring Janikowski performed soccer tricks at a party for six-year-old Katie Ballard, whose parents, Brian and Kathryn, had befriended Janikowski. Last week Brian tried to impress upon Janikowski the gravity of his situation. "He's not protected by the Florida State football program anymore," said Ballard. "Maybe in the old days if he had done this, they'd have made him run stadium steps. From now on it could cost him his livelihood and his citizenship. I think he finally realizes that." If not now, surely never.

BASEBALL LABOR DISPUTE
Hardball, Korean Style

Four months after Lee Seungyup's record-shattering 54 home runs made him the Mark McGwire of the Korea Baseball Organization (KBO), it looks as if some of the league's other players could use an international incarnation of Marvin Miller.

On Jan. 22, hours after 75 of South Korea's 366 major league players announced that they had created the first players' union in the KBO's 18-year history, the league took a hard-line stance against the organizers, announcing that all union members would immediately be released. The players would be reinstated only if they renounced the union, and replacement players would be used during the 2000 season. As of Feb. 1, 35 of the 75 members had bailed out on the union.

The league claims its economic footing is too shaky to endure increased player salaries and benefits, the likely result of collective bargaining. Spokesman Yang Hae-young says that each of the KBO's eight teams, which are owned by and carry the names of Korean corporations such as Hyundai and Samsung, lost from $4 million to $9 million in 1999, and no team has ever turned a profit. South Korea's recent economic crisis has only added to the turmoil, forcing the Ssang-bangwool Raiders to disband last month because the team's parent company went bankrupt. "Korea isn't ready for a players' union," Yang insists.

The issues are familiar. Union organizers want raises (players average $60,000 a year), a cut of broadcasting fees and a retirement fund. "We are being treated unfairly by team owners," union spokesman and Doosan Bears pitcher Kang Byong-kyu said. "It will not change unless we have an organization that represents our interests."

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