Long before he became an NFL pariah, reduced to scraping for jobs in the Arena Football League and in the CFL as a result of allegedly pilfering money from at least one former New Orleans Saints teammate in 2001, wide receiver Albert Connell was considered by many peers and coaches to be a pain in the butt.

Connell was, recalled one former Washington Redskins teammate recently, a guy with a chip the size of a granite block on his shoulder, a player who frequently overestimated his abilities and sometimes undermined team chemistry with a poor attitude.

"He could never, even when things were going well, allow himself to be happy," said the former Washington starter. "And when Albert was miserable, he was going to make sure he spread it around, you know?"

The attitude problems, the surly demeanor, a perceived lack of respect, all of that may change for Connell in his latest pro football incarnation, with the five-year NFL veteran having last month signed a contract with the CFL's Calgary Stampeders. The league has proven, as most recently demonstrated by the open-arms policy extended to running back Lawrence Phillips, that it can be a haven for the talented but tainted.

	Even when Connell posted good numbers in Washington, some peers weren't fond of the receiver.

That doesn't qualify the CFL, however, as a rehabilitation facility. And what Connell may need to resurrect his career after a full season of inactivity is someone who can work with him for the long-term rather than a short stay in a stopoff for the occasionally wayward.

At this point, based on conversations with about a dozen general managers and personnel directors, the NFL door remains closed to the veteran wide receiver. One's character can survive a lot of hits in the NFL, and even players who are hardly choir boys typically get an encore opportunity, since athletic prowess still usually trumps social skills.

But breaching the trust of the locker room, as Connell did in allegedly stealing from the pants and later the pickup truck of New Orleans tailback Deuce McAllister, is regarded as particularly taboo. The football adage -- "What you see here, what you hear here, let it stay here" -- extends implicitly to personal property as well.

The inherent sophomoric chicanery and petty pranks aside, a locker stall is not considered as common ground, and most veterans seek permission from a teammate even before an act as innocuous as borrowing deodorant or shampoo. Break the unspoken protocol of the locker room, as did Connell by allegedly dipping into McAllister's pants pockets, and the result can be instant ostracism.

Never mind that Connell avoided charges by making restitution. Caught on tape, by the surveillance cameras Saints officials had installed, he was branded as unworthy of trust or of a reprieve. Termed as "just a bad guy" by one New Orleans player, no one seemed too distraught when the Saints suspended Connell for the final month of the 2001 season, and then subsequently released him.

"It just would have been impossible for him to come back," said former Saints offensive tackle Kyle Turley, traded by New Orleans to St. Louis earlier this year. Noted a current New Orleans player: "(Management) here would have had a revolt on its hands had it done anything less than what it did."

Of course, dismissing Connell, and writing him off as an ill-advised investment, might have been more difficult for Saints officials had the wide receiver played better during his short tenure with the team. Signed in the spring of '01 to a five-year, $13 million contract which included a $2.5 million signing bonus, Connell was nearly as big a disappointment on the field as he was off it.

He started just one of the 11 games in which he appeared, caught only 12 passes for 191 yards and two touchdowns, never came close to establishing himself as the complement to Joe Horn that the Saints felt he could become when they acquired him. Even before he became a leper off the field, Connell was a liability on it, and his addition certainly was a mistake for a New Orleans franchise that had gambled on some other character risks.

But keeping Connell around, Redskins officials knew long before he departed, was risky business. Coming off what seemed a breakout performance in 1999 -- when he caught 62 passes for 1,132 yards and seven touchdowns in the final season of his original three-year contract -- the Redskins never offered Connell a long-term deal.

	“	It just would have been impossible for him to come back. (Management) here would have had a revolt on its hands had it done anything less than what it did.”
		—Former Saints OT Kyle Turley

Instead, the team was content to sign him to a one-year qualifying offer of $1.027 million as a restricted free agent, fully cognizant he would be eligible to depart as an unrestricted free agent after the '00 campaign. Following that 2000 season, a year marked by reduced numbers and a sideline altercation with receivers coach Terry Robiskie, the Washington brass was content to allow Connell to exit.

"We never really tried to keep him," recalled Washington vice president Vinny Cerrato. "Read into that what you will. Let's just say it was better for both sides to kind of go in opposite directions."

Beyond the sideline contretemps with Robiskie in an Oct. 8, 2000, win at Philadelphia, in which both the player and the assistant had to be restrained, there was one other game that season which graphically illustrated Connell's borderline talent and over-the-edge temper. In a 35-16 victory at Jacksonville just two weeks after the Philadelphia sideline blowup, Connell caught seven passes for 211 yards and three touchdowns.

But these two things were notable about the tour de force performance: Connell posted his gaudy numbers while working all day against rookie cornerback Kiwaukee Thomas, an undrafted college free agent, clearly a kid overmatched. In the aftermath of a career day, with reporters crowded around his locker, Connell celebrated the performance by belittling the media and charging that the press had ignored him much of the year.

The tattooed Connell verbally tattooed reporters, questioned their football intelligence, hinted that he was overdue in becoming the offensive focus that day. But putting that afternoon in perspective, it should be noted that Connell's three touchdowns that day against a callow rookie were the only ones he scored all year.

In fact, as a fourth-round draft pick in 1997, it's reasonable to assert that the '99 season and that one great game in 2000 were the lone NFL hallmarks for the onetime Texas A&M star. In no other season than 1999 did Connell ever catch more than 39 passes, register more than 762 yards, score more than three touchdowns. In no game like that 2000 contest at Alltel Stadium was he ever so dominant.

Team officials with the Orlando Predators, the Arena Football League franchise with which Connell signed last winter, had nothing adverse to say about him. But then again, Connell played in just one preseason game for the Predators, and failed to earn a spot on the regular-season roster.

His defenders might argue that Connell is not the "bad guy" he was portrayed as being by some former teammates. But the numbers seem to suggest he isn't a very good player, either, even with a career average of 17.8 yards per reception.

It is a tough combination to overcome, insufficient statistics and a potentially indelible stigma, and Connell could well find that the trip from Calgary back to the NFL is indeed a rocky road.

Len Pasquarelli is a senior NFL writer for ESPN.com.