KANSAS CITY, Mo. — A light rain falls outside Club Blonde. On the other side of the glass door, the lights are dim and the music is calming.

Candles dance in the midst of square, stainless steel tables, a place to rest your tumbler while you lean back in brown leather couches. There are TVs in Blonde, but there are no sports highlights or eye-gouging talk shows at this lounge on the southeast edge of the Country Club Plaza. In here, the plasma televisions show an endless video of a brunette staring into the screen, her deep eyes looking past crimson candles that match her nail polish.

It's soothing. It is 10 p.m. on a Thursday, and the upscale Kansas Citians whom Blonde attracts have begun to file in. The men wear neckties, and the women wear high heels; they order scotch or high-dollar bourbon and settle in while the warmth surrounds them. There are mirrors on every wall, a place perfect for the vain. They watch one another and grade themselves in a place that looks more like it belongs on the Las Vegas Strip.

Some of the Chiefs players come here sometimes. They need to unwind just like anyone else. Some are here more often than others.

"Larry Johnson likes it here," one of the bartenders says. "Don't know if we'll be seeing him for a while, though."

This is one of the Chiefs running back's favorite nightspots. At least, it was before he was involved in an incident with a woman two weeks ago. It was the team's bye week. Johnson came in, ordered a $750 bottle of champagne and leaned back. According to a Kansas City police incident report, Johnson allegedly spit a drink in a woman's face in the early morning hours of Oct. 11. He also allegedly threatened to kill the woman's boyfriend, the report said.

On Monday, he was charged with simple account. After turning himself in, The Associated Press Reported, Johnson posted $500 bond.

The incident raised concerns that the Chiefs' highest-paid player can't keep himself out of places like this, at late hours, at times when bad things are more likely to happen. It's the fourth time Johnson has been accused of such an incident. In all of them, there are common denominators_alcohol, aggression and women_that are troubling to Johnson's coaches, his teammates and his family.

The Chiefs benched Johnson for last Sunday's game, the second week in a row that Kansas City's former All-Pro running back has been held out for disciplinary reasons. Last week, it was because he had been late to team functions, and it also was the same week that another police report surfaced_one detailing a February incident in which Johnson was charged with simple assault after allegedly shoving a woman's head. It was late. It was at a bar.

The Chiefs don't know what's ahead for Johnson. They expect the NFL to suspend him, and a lengthy absence would cast doubt on Johnson's future in Kansas City. For now, the Chiefs have said all they can and have done all they will; they're waiting to see whether Johnson will change his bad habits, or whether they'll have to move on without him.

Johnson apologized last week. He said it was time to grow up and face his weaknesses_and get help if he couldn't do it himself.

"It's the first time in my life that I actually had to stand up_I actually woke up and kind of been disgusted with myself," he said, "disgusted as far as the way my life and my career (are) heading right now."

At Club Blonde, it's warm and peaceful. It's an escape for anyone willing to pay for it. As inviting as it is, Johnson has to force himself to stay out_or suffer the consequences.

"The thing is," coach Herm Edwards says, "he has to want to do the right thing."

Johnson's space in the Chiefs' locker room is untouched and has been for days. His football equipment is tucked within the wooden partitions. Johnson's electronics_more comforts for a man who craves them_are silent, their screens dark.

Johnson hasn't been in here since Wednesday, the last day he was at practice. He was gone the next two days. Edwards said Johnson was gone for personal reasons: so that Johnson isn't distracted by football and the Chiefs aren't distracted by him.

The Chiefs want Johnson to find out why he's drawn to bars, why he stays there past midnight and why he gets angry when he drinks. They say football has to wait. He wasn't with the team when it traveled to New York last Sunday's game against the Jets.

The question that resonates within Arrowhead Stadium and beyond is this one: Why would Johnson, one of the NFL's most prolific runners and a man who has parlayed football into wealth and fame, risk it all for a good time? Why would he put himself in a situation where it all might be taken away, his legacy stained and his career shortened?

Dan Batson is a research psychologist who was a professor emeritus at the University of Kansas. He says that some powerful and established people are aware they're doing risky things but do them anyway. Some think that with all their success and good fortune, rules might not apply to them.

"Some people enjoy rolling dice," Batson says. "There's a thrill of feeling like you're above the rules."

Batson says the reason the Chiefs say Johnson has to want to change is because it takes commitment. He says it's not as simple as standing at a lectern, facing a wall of cameras and declaring that he has changed.

Batson says it takes weeks and months to dull bad habits, the urges that might draw Johnson into situations that the Chiefs prefer he avoid.

So the Chiefs have given Johnson time to figure himself out. They've given him time without the monumental distraction of being a pro football player. For now, he's being paid. If the NFL suspends him_a league spokesman says officials are still investigating Johnson's behavior and whether he'll face discipline_he won't be paid and he won't be allowed at team functions.

On Friday afternoon, Johnson's teammates walked past the untouched locker. They walked past the helmet on the hook, the unoccupied shoulder pads and street clothes on hangers, paying less attention as each day passes.

Larry Johnson's first NFL coach says the kid was always standoffish and immature_but, by God, when he decided to do something, he'd do his damndest and there'd be no ignoring him.

Dick Vermeil says he believes Johnson will beat his latest obstacle, but time is his enemy. Johnson will turn 29 next month. He's approaching the age when running backs begin to break down and their legacies are cemented. Vermeil says Johnson faces the real possibility of being remembered as a "troubled running back" instead of a great one.

"He's at a crossroads in determining what kind of person he is," Vermeil says. "Everyone is going to hang a label on him for different issues, other than how he plays football. I think, as he comes to resolve these other issues, it will positively influence the rest of his life.

"He's just making it more difficult on himself than he has to."

In the meantime, the Chiefs are distancing themselves from Johnson in case he's too slow. They're taking steps toward life after Johnson, auditioning second-year running back Kolby Smith and rookie Jamaal Charles, a pair of early round insurance policies obtained the past two years in case Johnson flamed out.

The Chiefs' problem now is that they don't know what they have with Johnson. They look at him and see a man who's slower than he was two years ago. A man who might not care about greatness like they once thought he did_like they thought before they guaranteed him $19 million to run the ball and do what's right and be there for a team that had identified Johnson as one of its foundation blocks.

But now that's changed, and suddenly they don't know what they paid for. They don't know what's coming in return for that $19 million, whether it's a committed running back or a man who needs a weekly talking-to about right and wrong. They don't know whether he'll be here in a year or in a week.

All the Chiefs can do is take Johnson's word for it and hope this time, when Edwards sat Johnson down and told him he wouldn't play, that Johnson's recoil and surprise were genuine.

"He's headed in the right direction," Edwards says. "I believe that."

Larry Johnson Sr. just fired off another message to his son, not the first of the morning and not the last. This one was about God and Ezekiel and how those who always want more, never appreciate what they have.

The elder Johnson has his own football team to deal with. He's the defensive-line coach at Penn State, and the third-ranked Nittany Lions in the running for a shot at the national title. As important as that is, Larry Sr. is distracted by his son's troubles. Larry Sr. calls his son or texts him, sends him inspirational messages that keep him believing it's not too late to become a better man.

"God said we would go through troubles," Larry Sr. says. "This has kind of got him caught."

Johnson's father says his son will enter therapy. He says his son's troubles are beyond a father's power and that the 28-year-old needs to speak to a professional to understand himself and his actions_before they cost him all he's worked to achieve.

Larry Sr. says he has spoken with his son about going back so that he can move forward. He says he wants the running back to see himself as a child again, the quiet kid in the church pew, the undersized 6-year-old running the football with passion, the teenager who would stay up late to study grainy footage of Jim Brown and Dick "Night Train" Lane. Larry Sr. says his son always wanted to be remembered among the greats, but now that legacy has been threatened.

He doesn't know how his son will deal with that, and that's why the next few weeks are important. Like the others, all Larry Sr. can do is watch and wait while his son figures out which path he'll take. He knows this is the beginning of a long process for his son, and no one knows now where it might end_or whether it'll end in time for Larry Johnson to be just a football player again.

"I have my moments where I sit and worry about him and where he's at, how he's doing," Larry Sr. says. "As much as I am disappointed, it doesn't matter. I have to find a way to encourage and reach out to my son and talk him through it. If that happens, then we've won.

"He's got to deal with this. To me, it's a daily thing. It's every day. That's all we can look forward to: dealing with today and then dealing with tomorrow. He's at a point in his life where he's got to do this himself. Stepping to the plate, that's what I think Larry is trying to do."