Same society, same rules.

Ever strolled through the front office of an NFL team? I have. Seen about a dozen of them. They're all pretty much the same as any office in this country, including yours. The men wear ties and the women wear heels. There's water coolers, silly gossip, subtle racism, sexism, and all the other trappings of any normal, quasi-functional corporate environment.

	In the NFL, if it happens on the field, it stays on the field.

But should you stroll out to the practice field, you'll see a very different kind of office. The rules out there are vastly different. There are only men in this office. And the men in this office don't wear suits and ties to work. Instead, they wear helmets, shoulder pads and cleats. They make up a very different kind of society.

And a different society has different rules.

The parameters are that simple -- and that complicated -- in the case of Bill Romanowski vs. Marcus Williams. I'm glad Williams hasn't pressed criminal charges in the wake up the punch-up in practice early this week, and I hope he doesn't. Because of a broken orbital bone, he has been placed on injured reserve, and he's done for the season. But should Williams bring charges against another player for a fight, he could be opening himself to something far more lasting than physical damage.

I understand why he called the police in the first place. And I understand why he later changed his mind. Should he treat this like a criminal matter, Williams' career would be in jeopardy. People have recovered from broken orbital bones before. I hate to break it to you, but throughout the course of an NFL season, violent altercations occur just about every week. I think very few organizations -- and even fewer players -- would be at ease with a player who dialed 911 from the football field.

For a different society, there are different rules.

You recall a few years back, the vicious assault waged upon Stephen Davis by former teammate Michael Westbrook? I know what you're thinking. That there are some macho shenanigans that should be punished by jail time and there is a line between aggressive play and criminal intent. Because that ugly episode was caught on tape, many who viewed it felt Westbrook's transgression was worthy of criminal charges. But there was no jail time. The Redskins made Westbrook pay a $50,000 fine. See, that's one of those slippery "civil suit" type situations. I think that should have been settled by Michael Westbrook and Stephen Davis. Nobody else.

This latest incident is the same. It's not about Marcus Williams' agent or Bill Romanowski's agent. It's not about the NFL, or even the Oakland Raiders. I recall a conversation I had with Bruce Allen, one of the Raiders' top football executives, two years ago. At the owners meeting that year, Raiders owner Al Davis had voted in favor of the players' right to wear bandannas during games. By doing so, the Raiders and Davis not only opposed the rest of the league (surprise, surprise), but Allen said the decision was a matter of states rights vs. federal rights. And, he said, the Raiders were always in favor of state rights.

Well, I hope that applies to this incident. I hope in the state of Romanowski vs. the state of Williams, no one else gets involved. If Williams feels Romanowski is financially responsible for his injuries -- if he thinks Romo owes him some loot -- Romo should give it to Williams and to Williams only. Williams' agent, Lee Kooligan, should not pass through the doors of the Raiders complex. He should not pass go, and he should not collect his customary 4 percent of the deal.

The only thing that truly separates sports, especially football, from "real life," is that men have the chance to settle their disputes in an uncomplicated fashion. In fact, people often ask me what I miss most about football. Well, that's it. Not the fighting or violence. I miss being in a place where two men can disagree, even come to blows, then apologize later and go about their lives. I miss a place where people always move forward after arguments. Sadly, I've discovered that such a place exists only on the football field.

But what about Romo? What's up with him? Over the last 16 years, the guy has run up almost a half million dollars in fines for his extracurricular pursuits.

Let's start with this. I don't condone his actions. I don't condone ripping a cat's helmet off and pummeling his face. But I do understand how such things happen.

Have you ever watched a football game? I mean, seriously. Have you ever really seen what goes on during the course of a game? Ever watched a fullback try to clear a path for a smaller backfield mate? Ever seen someone like Chargers fullback Lorenzo Neal use all of his 245 pounds to damn near crack the ribs of a middle linebacker just so Ladanian Tomlinson can get a quick four yards? Did you see what Giants tight end Jeremy Shockey did to a Colts' safety last year? Think real hard. I'm sure you remember Shockey running him over and bending the cat in half like Raggedy Andy.

	All the signs in the world won't stop the violence on the football field.

Better yet, have you ever really watched Dolphins running back Ricky Williams? I mean, the cat weighs 240 pounds. And he runs . . . well, he runs really, really . . . hard. When he dips his shoulder and accelerates, he has the ability to do something far worse than make you miss the tackle. Ricky Williams and backs like him have the ability do something none of us who are driven by pride and ego can ever really stomach. He. Can. Make. You. Look. Bad. And no one wants to look bad.

Now, what do you suppose it takes to stop someone like that? What frame of mind is necessary to dispatch a fleet marauder like Ricky Williams? It's gonna be him, or it's gonna be you. What do you need to bring him down?

Force? Yes. Passion? Of course. Anger? Oh, certainly. Those are all acceptable responses to an important short-yardage situation involving said power back Ricky Williams. But what if your goal is to succeed in more than just that particular scenario? What if you're faced with nine, 10 or, in Romo's case, 16 years worth of such scenarios? What if your goal is to remain at the top of your game with nary a sag in your production? After all, there is always some version of Ricky Williams out there who, by doing his job, can make you look bad. From what well do you draw to balance athletic brilliance with professional intensity?

Playing a sport for a living isn't like other professions. It isn't one of those jobs where you can shut the door to the office and pretend you're busy. To be good and effective, you have to be present. You have to be present when you're sick, present when you're hurt, and present when you're greatly fatigued or severely overmatched.

What word describes a man who achieves such presence? The word you're looking for is rage. Controlled rage? Sure, I suppose there is such a thing. But if you're asking guys to neatly package that wrath, and to unleash it at only "suitable" times, you must be a citizen of the land of Narnia. Now, if Romo had crushed the face of a patron at some bar, we're having a different conversation right now. If that were the case, maybe he should be arrested or do time. But out there on the field? No way.

Uncontrolled rage is a byproduct of rage. It's what is necessary to slay the beast in front of you. Don't buy that? Don't aprove of that code of ethics? You don't have to.

Different society, different rules.

Alan Grant is a former NFL defensive back and the author of "Return to Glory: Inside Tyrone Willingham's Amazing First Season at Notre Dame"