FBI Joins Marvin Harrison Gun Investigation

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FBI Joins Marvin Harrison Gun Investigation
Don't expect Marvin Harrison to join Philadelphia quarterback Donovan McNabb on Syracuse University's Board of Trustees anytime soon.  The former Indianapolis Colts receiver and college teammate of McNabb's still isn't out of the woods in that whole gun investigation.  From ESPN.com:
Philadelphia police have enlisted the FBI to help investigate whether the fatal shooting of a convicted drug dealer last July is related to an earlier incident in which the victim claimed that he was shot by former Indianapolis Colts wide receiver Marvin Harrison , ESPN has learned.
The victim, Dwight Dixon, was killed in the Fairmount section of Philadelphia on Jul. 21, 2009, when a gunman approached the driver's side of his Toyota Camry and fired four times, shot through the back window, and then fired two more times into the passenger side. Video surveillance taken by a camera at a nearby store shows the gunman—wearing a hooded sweatshirt, jeans and white sneakers—fleeing with his head lowered and face obscured. Dixon was struck in the chest, stomach, and arm.
The location is a few blocks from a car wash owned by Harrison and down the street from his bar called Playmakers.

ESPN's story on the FBI's involvement comes on the heels of the publication of a jaw-dropping article on the case by GQ 's Jason Fagone.

Marvin Harrison is 6'0" and 185 pounds. He has a neatly trimmed mustache and the body-fat content of an Olympic swimmer. He became the dominant wide receiver of his era not by out-leaping or out-wrestling defenders but by exploiting an almost supernatural talent for getting open: for feints, fakes, jukes, dodges, bluffs, stutter steps, and sudden bursts of sick speed.

But at this moment, Nixon says, Marvin Harrison did not run. He stood on the sidewalk and calmly raised his wiry arms. In each hand, Nixon clearly saw, was a gun.

Nixon froze.

"YOU A BITCH-ASS NIGGA!" Nixon heard the fat man scream at Harrison. "YOU AIN'T GONNA SHOOT. YOU AIN'T GONNA SHOOT. DO WHAT YOU GOTTA DO."

Nixon was across the street and 30 yards away when Harrison started shooting. Pop pop pop pop pop pop—a great staccato gust of bullets. Steadily, Nixon says, Harrison unloaded both guns into the fat man's car, stippling the red Toyota Tundra with bullet holes as the fat man ducked in his seat.

Eventually, the fat man sat up and sped off, heading straight toward Nixon's position as Harrison darted into the street and continued to shoot.

 

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