Gary Sheffield’s Perspective:
“Doc loved coming home to Tampa, home to the high school and family he cared about most. One of those trips, though, turned bad. It also happened my senior year. Twenty years later, people are still talking about that night.
Dwight invited me and a group of friends to a University of South Florida basketball game. Just before we left, Doc’s moon, my grandmother, said, ‘Boys. why don’t you stay home? I don’t have a good feeling about tonight.’
There’d been racial tension in Tampa between police and the Black community, and Grandma saw her son as a target because of the way he rolled- he didn’t mind showing off his fancy cars.
‘Don’t worry, Mama,’ Dwight [Gooden] assured my grandmother, “We’ll be fine.’
We went to the game in a caravan of four cars. The USF game was fun, but we felt the eyes of the police staring at us the whole time. We didn’t know why. We weren’t drinking heavily. We weren’t carrying on. Of course, Doc was the center of attention. Everyone was coming by for a picture or a handshake. And so were the cops. They were all around us.
After the game we went to Bennigan’s. Again, fans congregated around Doc. Again, we did nothing wrong. I was enjoying the leftover limelight of my uncle’s fame. So far, so good, although it was weird how the cops were following us as if we’d robbed a bank.
‘We’re outta here,’ said Doc, sensing we’d better end the evening sooner rather than later.
We got into our cars and headed home. My Corvette led the way, Doc’s car right behind me. We came to a green light that turned yellow as we entered the intersection. Seeing a cop car nearby, I decided to back up rather than run the risk of getting a ticket. We waited patiently. When the light turned green, we drove on. That’s when the cop pulled me over. I had no idea what he wanted. And he didn’t seem to know either. Just routine questions about nothing in particular.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Doc’s car had also been pulled over. A few minutes later, when I turned around to see what was happening with my uncle- I figured he was being hassled same as me- I saw the cops taking him to the ground. That’s when I exploded. First thing I thought was, “They’re going to break his arm!’ So I ran over, knocked down 4 or 5 cops, and picked up Doc off the ground. That’s when the cops went after us with a vengeance, beating us with their nightsticks. Our only weapons was our fists, and our fists weren’t enough. We got beat up bad.
We spent the night in jail. You talk about rage! We were sure the reason the cops had focused on us was that they were jealous of Doc’s fame and figured he flaunted it with fancy cars. A lawyer got us out. Charges were dropped. Eventually Dwight sued the police and won, but not before the city of Tampa exploded.
Word got out. The Black neighborhoods were as incensed as we were. Doc was a hero and Doc had been attacked for no reason. Attack Doc and you attack every African-American in Tampa. The city broke out in riots. The police wanted us to call for peace and calm things down. But we weren’t feeling peaceful and we weren’t calm. We were filled with anger at being beaten for no earthly reason. Eventually the neighborhoods quieted, but the bitterness lasted. Although Doc was a homeboy who loved his native city, he never felt the same about Tampa again. The wounds from this incident were ugly, painful, and deep.” -From, “Inside Power” By: Gary Sheffield
