BYU, Bills only have ‘zero-tolerance’ when public applies pressure

The adults inside Brigham Young University’s athletics department believe in doing the right thing — when everyone’s watching them.

They will post a strongly worded statement against the racist taunts that were directed at Black volleyball players on the visiting Duke women’s team last Friday night. They will apologize, reiterate their Christian values and declare they hold a “zero-tolerance” policy against the very same ugly behavior they had spent the previous night tolerating.

Their athletic director will then take the floor before BYU’s volleyball next home game, with a microphone in his right hand and small piece of blue paper in his left. He will peek at his notes before reminding the fans in attendance for a second time that he’s the athletic director and therefore, accountability falls on him.

Then, he’ll point his finger at the crowd, strike the role of a fatherly figure and sternly warn the fans not to cross the line. The video posted on the team’s Twitter account, for all to see, ends there.

Similarly, the Buffalo Bills will place their culture over football — when everyone’s looking.

Their general manager will confirm this while addressing reporters following the release of Matt Araiza, the rookie punter who was allowed to compete for and win a roster spot in the weeks after the team learned that he had been accused of raping an underage girl.

The GM, too, will need to glance down at a sheet of paper before remembering to express sympathy for “the whole situation.” Then, without the benefit of prepared notes, his words will trickle out in a low and serious tone as he proclaims what’s important.

“Again, this is bigger than football,” Bills General Manager Brandon Beane said last Saturday, “our culture here is more important (to) us than winning football games.”

Only when their silos toppled and closed doors opened — and people started paying attention — did BYU and the Buffalo Bills act courageously.

When Duke sophomore Rachel Richardson prepared to serve Friday night, during a match played inside the relative anonymity of a field house that crowds 5,600 fans in Provo, Utah, the n-word was lobbed back at her.

Not one authority figure on the BYU coaching staff or one athletic official in attendance did anything to address the situation in the moment, Richardson noted in her own Twitter statement. And no one in the stands, a canvas of young White faces behind Richardson, showed the humanity to silence the harassment.

Without interruption or admonition, Richardson was allowed to be called everything but a child of God. Until her godmother shamed BYU in tweets that went viral, this private university sponsored by a religious organization remained in its bunker, ignoring racism in its midst.

Before the next game, BYU Athletic Director Tom Holmoe asked all fans representing the school to treat guests with respect “so that we can be disciples of Christ.” But he did so a day too late.

The Bills’ timing was even worse; they waited until Araiza’s gang rape allegation became public to distance themselves from their prized draft pick. We may never know the extent of Buffalo’s in-house investigation — the accuser’s attorney notified the team’s legal counsel on July 31, and according to Beane, the Bills used their law enforcement resources in an attempt to get to the facts.

However, it’s clear that when no one else knew about the gruesome details of the October 2021 night — when a 17-year-old girl claimed to have been gang raped by Araiza and his college teammates — the Bills went on making football decisions as usual.

For almost a month, they had knowledge of the accusations. They knew that a teenage girl in San Diego had hired a civil attorney. They were aware that the word “rape” was being attached to Araiza’s name. And they still played Araiza in their Aug. 13 preseason opener.

That day, Araiza boomed an 82-yard punt, building anticipation from the fan base and drawing praise from head coach Sean McDermott. And even on the day before the accuser filed a civil suit in San Diego against Araiza and two of his college teammates, McDermott appeared on a podcast and continued to hail Araiza’s punting abilities.

At that time few people outside Buffalo and San Diego knew about the allegations, so McDermott could still say with a straight face that Araiza was a “a great kid.”

Days later, after the allegations had surfaced, McDermott did not play Araiza in the team’s final preseason game. He struck a more somber tone.

“I understand there was a game just played, but I want to talk about something that’s more important, which is what we have going on with one of our members of our team right now with Matt Araiza,” McDermott said. “It’s a situation that is extremely serious. Just hard to go through and it’s not a situation that I or we take lightly, whatsoever.”

In defending the team’s actions since late July, Beane said the Bills wanted to be exhaustive, even though they never interviewed the accuser, according to her attorney. They didn’t want to rush to judgment. They’re not the judge and jury. And they’re certainly not detectives, Beane said.

So, no, the Bills are not private eyes. They are just another NFL team with no clue how to handle assault allegations against women.

Teams can brag about zero-tolerance policies and core values, but they mean nothing if they’re only used as shields against public outcry.