Crennel Tried to Talk Belcher Out of Suicide KANSAS CITY, Mo. - Romeo Crennel had tried to help. He had stood in the parking lot of the Kansas City Chiefs" practice site with Jovan Belcher early Saturday morning. He was uncertain what was troubling Belcher, whom he knew as a strong-willed leader who sat in the front at meetings. He did not know that less than an hour earlier, Belcher had fatally shot his girlfriend, Kasandra Perkins. Belcher thanked General Manager Scott Pioli and Crennel for all they had done for him. "I was trying to get him to understand that life is not over, he still has a chance, and let's get this worked out," Crennel said Monday, adding that he did not know of any personal issues that Belcher might have had. But Belcher turned away from both of them and shot himself. At a news conference on Monday, Crennel for the first time discussed the details of Saturday. Crennel said he did not know whether Belcher, a linebacker, had ever sustained a concussion. He said he had never known Belcher to behave in a violent manner. "I've never seen him with a gun - never, ever," he said, his voice rising as he ended his answer with, "O.K.?" Crennel is trying to shift his focus, and his team's, to Sunday's game at Cleveland. He is aware this is no small task, that the emotions "might not be over, for some of us, for most of our lives." But Crennel said he was moving on and that he would turn his attention to helping his players. "I know my daughters and my wife tell me I must be crazy, that something should be wrong with me," Crennel said. But I can deal with stress. I can deal with grief, so I'm dealing with it by trying to be the leader that those young men upstairs need. Right tackle Eric Winston said that the players had been encouraged to speak with the counselors available at the team's site since Saturday. Winston said they were told: "Don't hold it in, talk to people, communicate. You don't have to talk to us, but you need to talk to somebody. The Chiefs are also left trying to come to terms with the Belcher they knew and the one who killed himself and his girlfriend. "We didn't know the guy that made those last few decisions," said Brandon Siler, who played in place of Belcher on Sunday. In West Babylon, N.Y., Belcher's hometown, the conflicting portraits of Belcher were much the same. Those in his hometown said he was considered a role model. A late bloomer on the field, he set his sights on reaching the N.F.L. and worked tirelessly to achieve that goal despite being lightly recruited out of West Babylon High School. He went undrafted out of the University of Maine, but signed as a free agent with the Chiefs in 2009 and proved himself on the practice squad and special teams. "He just had that inner drive that you can't give to somebody," Al Ritacco, West Babylon High's football coach, said. When you're in ninth grade and you tell your coach that you're going to make it to the pros, that's something that you don't really find, not only in kids, but adults. He was driven to do the right thing. Belcher maintained a presence at West Babylon High beyond his retired No. 52 jersey. He frequently visited the school and offered passionate pregame speeches to the football team. "They couldn't take their eyes off of him any time he came into the locker room," said Frank Riviezzo, a former assistant coach at West Babylon. He talked to them about how life was, and to do the right thing and be the best person you could be. Belcher, family and close friends have said, was unchanged by his status as a professional football player. He gave back to the community, paying for the entertainment for an annual Fourth of July neighborhood block party. "It was just like a big family thing every July 4th ever since he went pro," said Troy Brown, who was a neighbor of Belcher's. He took care of his mom. He took care of a lot of people. The house where Belcher's mother lives has been more of a memorial site, as friends and family have gathered to grieve and reminisce. A makeshift shrine of jerseys and other memorabilia rests beside the front stairs. Tim Rohan reported from Kansas City, Mo., and Dan Duggan from West Babylon, N.Y.