NFL should do more than make pledges to address sins
At the 56th annual Super Bowl on Feb. 13, the NFL would be wise to use SoFi Stadium in the Los Angeles area as a giant confessional to seek absolution for its sins.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m a football fanatic. My children Michael, Jackie and Janet still recount the frightening specter of the crazy man in the living room bellowing, “Go, Walter!” on Sundays in the 1980s.
Come to think of it, the league could use a voice from someone as esteemed as the late Bears star Walter Payton, for help in repairing its reputation.
Granted, the recent tributes to John Madden, the 6-foot-4 teddy bear and color commentator who was eulogized as the voice of the NFL, may have helped in upgrading its image. Yet repeated clips of Madden shouting, “Boom!” and using the telestrator to point out 10-gallon buckets of Gatorade at the ready for dousing a winning coach, can hardly distract from, and certainly cannot counterbalance, the NFL’s egregious missteps with COVID-19, sexual misconduct, domestic violence, chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), racism and mental illness.
The roster of sinners and scapegoats from 2021 is expansive.
Green Bay Packer Pro Bowler Aaron Rodgers’ flaunting of COVID-19 guidelines and lying about being vaccinated earned him a mere slap on the wrist — a fine of $14,650. (His annual salary is about $33.5 million.) The idea of suspending a popular star with the league’s highest quarterback rating would have been ruinous to TV ratings and to what the NFL cherishes more than the health and safety of its players: the almighty dollar.
The same look-the-other-way policy eased the return of Tampa Bay’s star receiver Antonio Brown to the playing field after he was caught using a counterfeit vaccination card. Brown’s other recent behavior, some criminal — physical assault of a delivery driver, as well as allegations of sexual assault — and some just plain bizarre — he stripped off his pads and jersey before bolting from a Buccaneers game against the New York Jets — illustrates a need for professional help. Except, of course, in the NFL, where treatment can wait until either Brown loses a step from his blazing speed or he has a total breakdown.
And just when we thought the league and one of its teams had done the right thing for a change — forcing out Las Vegas Raiders head coach Jon Gruden for blatantly racist comments — it turns out Gruden may be a scapegoat whose emails with the Washington Football Team’s president were leaked as a smoke screen for hiding damning evidence of sexual harassment in the Washington team’s workplace, according to a report by CBS Sports’ Cody Benjamin.
Distraction, in fact, has become a tried-and-true modus operandi of the NFL, as in the release of Henry Ruggs III by the Raiders, just hours after he killed a woman while driving 156 mph. Authorities allege he was driving under the influence. The quicker the banishment, the quicker the public will forget the NFL’s fruitless effort to prevent or treat alcoholism, the league’s single biggest criminal issue.
According to USA Today, from 2000 to 2012, there were 624 arrests of NFL players, of which more than a quarter were based on suspicion of impaired driving from alcohol or drugs.
Nevertheless, the league actually loosened its alcohol policy in 2019, allowing more corporate whiskey and beer sponsorships, and more alcohol advertising during games.
It’s the kind of decision making we’ve come to expect from Commissioner Roger Goodell, whose priorities of money, power and politics appear to trump the interests and welfare of his employees. As when concerns about attendance, as well as pressure from then-President Donald Trump, led him to prohibit Colin Kaepernick and other players from protesting police shootings of African Americans during the national anthem. Later he apologized while still doing nothing to stop owners from blackballing the talented quarterback and civil rights advocate from ever playing football again.
Finally, there isn’t enough space to enumerate all the tragic stories of players who have suffered brain damage and CTE from head trauma on the gridiron. The saga and suicide of the New England Patriots’ Aaron Hernandez, who was convicted of murder, seems to have repeated this past year: Authorities say Phillip Adams of the San Francisco 49ers killed six civilians, including two children, before killing himself. Hernandez and Adams both were posthumously diagnosed with CTE.
Nor will we ever forget our own Dave Duerson, a Bears Pro Bowl safety and CTE victim who killed himself with a blast to the chest. He asked that his brain be preserved for study in a heroic gesture for players who come after him.
A 2017 article in the Journal of the American Medical Association reported that nearly 90% of the brains donated by former football players across all levels of play were diagnosed with CTE. Among former NFL players, the number rose to 99%. Imagine taking any job where there’s close to a 100% chance of suffering a debilitating brain disease.
Rules changes and better equipment have led to a 30% reduction in the number of concussions. But 172 still occurred in 2020, and more must be done.
The picture that emerges is that the NFL is a notoriously hot mess that gets away with too much by exploiting the love of its fans.
Apologies and pledges from the NFL are meaningless. A justifiable penance, and a good way to start the healing, would be donating all of Super Bowl LVI’s proceeds to the Mental Health Foundation, announcing the firing of Goodell at halftime and spending whatever millions are necessary to lure Commissioner Adam Silver away from the NBA.