What Joey Crawford and Don Imus Have in Common

All of us are taught from an early age to have respect for our elders...but what happens when our elders don't earn it?

They get the boot.

In the last two weeks, two seasoned professionals in the world of sports and entertainment have experienced drastic changes in their employment status.

First, Don Imus saw a successful 28-year run as a morning radio host end after he uttered racially-charged comments on the air. Then, on Tuesday, NBA referee Joey Crawford was suspended indefinitely after 30 years of work for improper conduct in last Sunday's game between the San Antonio Spurs and the Dallas Mavericks.

During the game, Crawford assessed two technical fouls to Spurs forward Tim Duncan—the second for laughing on the bench before allegedly challenging Duncan to a fight.

While they aren't senior citizens, Imus and Crawford are both highly respected and well recognized inside and outside their own professional circles. They're certifiable Hall-of-Fame material in their respective fields, and their staying power is a testament to their talent and influence.

But we all know that staying too long can wear out anybody's welcome.

Imus and Crawford had been in hot water before. Imus has a well-documented history of bigoted comments, while Crawford is a repeat offender on wild calls. In the 2003 playoffs, he tossed then-Dallas Mavericks head coach Don Nelson and assistant Del Harris in the first quarter of a game against the San Antonio Spurs.

I know George Bush is from Texas—but you can't hate on an entire state. I mean, Matthew McConaughey is from Texas too. He's pretty damn cool.

The interesting angle here is the unwillingness of major corporate entities to make excuses for rogue employees—no matter how long they've been rogue. The bottom line: It's all a matter of dollars and sense.

CBS Radio showed Imus the  door when America caught wind of his slur—not least of all because that same wind blew through the offices of big-money advertisers on Madison Avenue.

And though Crawford wasn't fired, he was Stern-ly informed that the NBA won't tolerate refs trying to become the center-court attraction—especially at the expense of the league's marquee (read: revenue-generating) players.

You could call this a classic case of money talking and BS walking—but when that BS comes with many solid years of experience, the decision gets a little harder.

Then again, the decision's pretty much moot unless you have the money to make it in the first place.

Had Imus and Crawford not been reprimanded, the blogosphere would have gone berserk. Still, the fact that CBS and the NBA kept both men around as long as they did speaks to a simple truth: Each company had something to gain from playing with fire.

Imus had legitimate star power. Crawford was an expert at managing games. They held onto their positions for so long because they were good at what they did—and because their work was profitable for their bosses. When that profitability was compromised, so were their jobs.

In the end, though, it looks like everybody wins. Imus will probably write a best-selling memoir. Crawford will land in some men's magazine or on a reality show as America's new hotheaded sweetheart. The NBA and CBS preserve their images...and the rest of us wait for the next thing to bitch about.

The lesson here?

30 years is 30 years—and, good or bad, it's got to count for something.

So long as it doesn't leave your employer down for the count.