Say good-bye to self-destructive Robinson

Wave good-bye to Koren Robinson.

Finally.

Ask someone to throw you a pass and drop it as a final salute to his buttery hands.

Say good-bye to his slippery character, to his sloppy pass routes and to his drive-killing drops.

Mourn his self-destructiveness.

Mourn the squandered potential. The speed. The open-field running ability. The 78-catch season of 2002 that seemed like a harbinger, not a one-shot wonder.

Four years into his troubled NFL career, after crawling in and out of coach Mike Holmgren's doghouse so often he should have worn a flea collar. After missing more meetings than an air-headed intern. And after last season's three-game suspension for violating the NFL's drug policy, Robinson is toast in this town.

On May 6 in Medina, a week after telling reporters, "I have to do everything I gotta do to stay here," Robinson did everything he had to do to make sure he was gone.

He was charged with DUI and reckless driving and, although he pleaded not guilty to the charges on Tuesday, he is expected to be waived by the Seahawks, perhaps as early as today.

He has left the Hawks no choice but to admit he is the biggest mistake of the Holmgren era.

They should have known better. Should have done their homework better.

They shouldn't have blown the ninth pick in the 2001 draft on someone this volatile; a player who had left a paper trail of bad news as long as a football field.

Koren Robinson always has been trouble.

Since 1998 in North Carolina, he has been arrested on suspicion of discharging a firearm in the city, first-degree kidnapping, an attempted first-degree sex offense, driving while his license was revoked, operating a motor vehicle with no insurance and carrying a concealed weapon.

Even though all of the charges were dismissed, this is a pattern, not a series of coincidences. This isn't a case of wrong place at the wrong time. This is the wrong guy.

Robinson, 25, has beaten so many raps in the past, he probably thought he could get away with everything, even in the NFL. He could miss meetings, miss practices, live life according to his schedule.

He could ho-hum his way through drills. He could drop pass after pass that cost his team game after game and there would be no consequences.

Robinson always has been Peter Pan in shoulder pads. He has never had to grow up. Never had to be responsible for his actions.

Even his suspension from the Jan. 2 game against Atlanta for missing a practice, even the league's three-game suspension for drug violations, even his recent mea culpa, didn't scare him into maturity.

After last season, Holmgren made Robinson one final deal: Go to rehab, clean yourself up and you'll get one more chance.

Robinson's mother was supposed to join him in Seattle to watch over him. They were going to stay in Seattle through two minicamps before leaving for training camp in late July.

Robinson acted as if he understood he was getting another second chance. The problem is he has had more second chances than Charlie Sheen.

Holmgren stuck with him longer than a coach should because, I believe, he thought Robinson wasn't a bad guy, just a chronic screw-up who could be rehabilitated.

Now Holmgren, like the rest of the beleaguered Seahawks nation, must bid good-bye to a knucklehead. Good riddance to a great mistake. To a guy who never got it.

At worst, his departure is addition by subtraction. He, like former Hawk linebackers Anthony Simmons and Orlando Huff, never bought into the system, never understood the sacrifices it took to become great.

Robinson is a tragic figure. He may be washed out of the league at 25. He may have killed his last best chance at a long, rich and memorable football career.

Koren Robinson could have been great. He just never understood the price it took to get there.

And now all those second chances he was given are gone.

Wave good-bye.

Steve Kelley: 206-464-2176 or skelley@seattletimes.com.