According to the Indianapolis Star, Philadelphia police seized a 9 mm handgun from Marvin Harrison’s SUV during a traffic stop on Wednesday evening. Harrison had a valid license for the gun, but had denied that he was in possession of the weapon when the police officer asked him about it.

No charges were filed, but as the Star points out, this isn’t the first time Harrison and his guns have found trouble.

Harrison was a suspect in an April 2008 shooting in Philadelphia, but the local DA declined to press charges citing a lack of evidence. When she announced her finding in January 2009, then-DA Lynne Abraham refused to rule out prosecuting Harrison in the future.

Investigators said a gun owned by Harrison was used in the shooting.

A Philadelphia man, Dwight Dixon, later accused Harrison of shooting him. Dixon was shot again in July 2009 and died two months later. Current DA Seth Williams has called Harrison a person of interest in that case.

In the 2008 shooting (in which three people were injured), two of the victims said that Harrison had fired the shots, but he was never charged with anything due to lack of evidence. Dixon also said that Harrison had shot him, yet the receiver wasn’t charged with anything then either.

Now Dixon is dead after being shot again and Harrison is driving around lying about having a gun in his SUV. If he had a valid license for the gun on him, why did Harrison lie to the police and tell them that he wasn’t carrying the weapon?

I’m no Jessica Fletcher, but something doesn’t add up here.

In the February GQ story, “The Dirtiest Player,” Jason Fagone tells the tale of eyewitness Robert Nixon, who witnessed the Harrison shooting.

It was a scene* to make anybody stop and watch. Broad daylight in North Philadelphia. April 29, 2008—a Tuesday. The corner of 25th Street and Thompson, about seven blocks north of the Philadelphia Museum of Art and the steps Rocky climbed. A block of brick row houses, a church with a rubbed-out sign, a Hispanic grocery, a vacant lot. In one sense, the presence of a future Hall of Famer at this seedy vortex of the city—Harrison, eight-time Pro Bowl wide receiver with the Indianapolis Colts, then at the tail end of a thirteen-season career and a $67 million contract—was incongruous. Especially given that Harrison, who is usually described as “quiet” and “humble,” was noisily stomping the fat man in the face and gut.

To Nixon, the fat man looked semi-conscious.

After several minutes, Harrison and McCray walked away. The fat man slowly picked himself up. Shouting epithets, he staggered to his car. Nixon watched as Marvin Harrison got into his own car, parked to the west of the fat man’s. The fat man put his car into reverse. Thompson Street is one-way going east. The fat man backed up the wrong way until he was smack in front of Chuckie’s Garage, a car wash Harrison owns. The fat man was now blocking Harrison, who was trying to drive away.

Nixon saw Harrison get out of his car and exchange words with the fat man. He couldn’t hear the words, but he could see the gestures of threat and counterthreat. The fat man stayed in his car. He called somebody on his cell. Harrison got back into his car and called somebody on his cell. After a minute or two, Harrison got out of his car for the second time.

Marvin Harrison is six feet tall 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 outleaping or outwrestling defenders but by exploiting an almost supernatural talent for getting open: for feints, fakes, jukes, dodges, bluffs, stutter steps, 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 thirty 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.

Read the rest of the story here. It’s an eye-opening read. Harrison was always the consummate professional on the field, but this story paints a very different picture.

Photo from fOTOGLIF

Remember Marvin Harrison? Well, apparently the 37-year old receiver is healthy, has no plans to retire and wants to play in 2009.

“I played in 15 games last year and a playoff game, and I intend to play again this season,” Condon said Harrison told him in a conversation Thursday afternoon.

Harrison, who turns 37 in August, was released by the Colts after the 2008 season, in large part for salary-cap relief. Harrison, who didn’t agree to a restructured contract, was scheduled to count more than $13 million against the Colts’ 2009 cap.

Last season, Harrison had just 60 catches for 636 yards and five touchdowns — the lowest full single-season totals of his career. He missed 11 games in 2007 because of a knee injury, catching just 20 passes and scoring one touchdown.

There hasn’t been much interest in Harrison at this point, but Condon said he expects his client to sign with a team close to the time that training camps open later this summer.

The knock on Harrison is that he won’t play for a veteran’s minimum salary, but considering no teams have showed interest in him to this point, he might change his tune once the season draws near. One would think that a receiver-needy team would have interest in a receiver of Harrison’s stature, but nobody wants to overpay for a 37-year old with knee issues.