This week we learned just what one has to do to be suspended for the balance of a season in the National Felony League.

It doesn’t always involve a felony.

Baltimore’s Jamal Lewis was forced to sit out exactly two NFL games after serving four months in jail for a drug conspiracy charge.

Tampa Bay’s Michael Pittman served two weeks in an Arizona jail after he got into his Hummer and tried to ram his wife’s Mercedes, with baby-sitter and child inside. How very 21st century. The league made Pittman miss three games.

Misdemeanors, of course, mean nothing. Indianapolis’ Monte Reagor surrendered to charges of harassing a former girlfriend via the phone. He was released and participated in a playoff game the next day.

No, there’s no parallel between personal responsibility and professional eligibility in the league where not even the cheerleaders can stay out of central booking.

You only lose a season when you’re Terrell Owens, and you speak what is left of your mind.

It was the Philadelphia Eagles, not the NFL, who sidelined Owens on Saturday with nine games left on the schedule. The Eagles responded with yet another hideous loss, this time at Washington. Owens responded by issuing a second apology for daring to question Donovan McNabb’s place in history.

The Eagles, apparently, are unmoved. So is their offense. At 4-4, the defending NFC champs have rushed for 100 yards exactly once. Three times they have been held under 20 points, even though Owens has caught five touchdown passes and rolled up more than 100 yards in catches five times.

What did Owens do? Nothing illegal. No bolo punches to the chins of girlfriends, no DUIs, no assaults on autograph seekers.

Owens did what he has always done – pop off. He said it was a “good assumption” that the Eagles would be better off with Brett Favre at quarterback instead of McNabb.

Generalissimo Andy Reid said this was just a culmination of Owens’ monologues over two years – T.O. is never Talked Out – and Reid is right. Owens also tried to finagle a new contract in the summer, ignoring the perfectly good one he had.

But Owens also danced on the Cowboys’ midfield logo, took over the cheerleaders’ pompoms after getting to the end zone, suggested his quarterback was a homosexual and made a needlessly vulgar TV promo with Nicollette Sheridan.

Except for the latter, Owens did all that before Philadelphia got him. The Eagles knew full well they were buying a ticket to a bizarre, tiresome show just to get three hours of genius on Sunday. Now, they want their money back.

Suspend T.O.? Does anyone’s brain retain the memory of a Super Bowl played only nine months ago, when Owens completed an excruciating rehab from a shattered ankle and caught nine passes for 122 yards?

That’s how you handle Owens. When he wants a new deal, say “No.” When he pops off, pop off back. When it’s third-and-12, find him.

But the NFL is still more honest than the college game.

The NFL is primarily about results. If Owens were to drive a Maserati into a sidewalk full of nuns, he would be allowed to play because the incident didn’t affect winning.

Since Owens’ loose talk apparently was infuriating McNabb, he had to go. You can’t cross your superstar even if he isn’t the best player on the team.