IS THE NFL TOO BIG AND RICH TO CARE ABOUT DESHAUN WATSON?
With Americans concerned about post-pandemic life and racial tensions, outrage has been mild about 21 civil suits accusing Watson of sexual misconduct — which allows the league to slow-play the case.
If you’re waiting for a swift NFL decision about Deshaun Watson’s future, here’s a word of guidance: Don’t. What’s disconcerting about Roger Goodell’s latest player conduct crisis is that the league, never more powerful or flush with prosperity, has no incentive to do anything but stand by.
One hundred and thirteen billion dollars are pouring into 345 Park Avenue via new broadcasting agreements, meaning the league isn’t impacted by what advertisers are thinking. America is paralyzed by more racial tension, awaiting a verdict in Minneapolis that could trigger nationwide violence. And hey, way more important than anything else — as ESPN and the NFL Network scream every commercial break — the draft is arriving soon, with Goodell in Watson deflection mode while talk-show hosts chatter about the Justin Fields smear campaign, the legitimacy of Trey Lance, whether the 49ers are bluffing and how uptight Bill Belichick must be after Tom Brady one-upped him.
The league is not on the timetable of Watson’s accusers, MeToo advocates or the Houston Texans, who will need a quarterback when camp starts in 14 weeks. Nor is the league on the timetable of Nike, Reliant Energy and Beats by Dre, which have suspended or dropped endorsement contracts with Watson as he defends himself against accusations of sexual assault and inappropriate behavior.
‘‘We are deeply concerned by the disturbing allegations … We will continue to closely monitor the situation,’’ Nike said in a statement.
No, the NFL is on the NFL’s timetable.
I’m not hearing much outcry about it, either.
The country is in a different mindset about sports in 2021. People are trying to survive the pandemic and the evils of modern life, leaving them with little time or energy to debate sports-related topics — even one as alarming as the number of Watson accusers, now 21 and counting (one case was dropped) and all disclosing their identities publicly through attack-dog lawyer Tony Buzbee. Unlike the Ezekiel Elliott case, the Ray Rice case, the Adrian Peterson case, the Ben Roethlisberger case and, going way back, the Michael Vick and Ray Lewis cases, Watson isn’t hearing the pounding daily calls for justice. Just as the NFL is on pause, so are Americans, content to wait regardless of Watson’s celebrated standing as a dazzling playmaker and marketing force.
The sheer volume of allegations suggests Watson is either a gross sexual predator or the most naive man on Earth, thinking massage therapy sessions were sex favors. But while Watson faces those 21 civil lawsuits, the difference between his situation and others is that criminal charges have yet to be filed. Concerns also remain about Buzbee, described in Houston legal circles as a self-promoter and circus act, and how throughly he vetted the plaintiffs. The NFL has launched its own investigation, but with so many alleged victims and questions to ask, the process could take months.
So anyone anticipating a hammer from the commissioner should expect silence, hardly the most sensitive way to handle a barrage of sexual assault claims. Armed with unprecedented leverage — the NFL product has proved to be Teflon, surviving existential threats ranging from concussions to the Colin Kaepernick crusade — Goodell can act as he prefers when he rules. Assuming Watson isn’t convicted in a criminal proceeding, he easily could be placed on the Commissioner’s Exempt list, which allows him to be paid while sitting out games, if not the entire 2021 season. That isn’t what the Texans want, already having removed Watson’s images from the introduction of the team’s online TV show. They would like to trade him ASAP, and, shocking as it seems, there are teams privately longing to acquire the uber-quarterback for possible use no matter how his case turns out. If the Texans cut Watson, they would receive zero compensation from the team that snaps him up.
Or, if he wants to deal with some public heat, Goodell can take no action against Watson because he hasn’t been charged criminally. The MeToo groups would howl, but disturbingly, the fantasy players would celebrate, as would fans of the team that acquires Watson. Without the legal case, he would have been front and center on draft night after demanding a trade in January. The Jets and 49ers would be among those making offers, allowing the Texans to select Zach Wilson, Fields or Lance in a franchise rebuild. Now, any Watson interest around the league must be kept on the down-low.
For certain, the NFL has noticed the absence of public indignation about this case. Perhaps sports fans are struck by legal fatigue on top of pandemic burnout. When one of football’s most dynamic players, Aaron Donald of the Los Angeles Rams, was accused Wednesday of assaulting a 26-year-old man at an after-hours club in Pittsburgh, did anyone blink? There is an assumption now, after so many years of arrests and suspensions, that athletes will find trouble. At long last, as Charles Barkley said long ago, they should not be viewed as role models because too many are irresponsible.
The league seems more concerned now about vaccinations than Deshaun Watson. Goodell would prefer all players, coaches, personnel and spectators are inoculated so normalcy can return. ‘‘All of us in the NFL want to see every one of our fans back,” he said. ‘‘Football is simply not the same without the fans, and we expect to have full stadiums in the 2021 season.’’ Yet players continue to be divided about vaccines, some out of medical and religious concerns, which prompted the league to recruit star quarterback Russell Wilson to raise awareness. He’s hosting a TV special Sunday night with his wife, the singer Ciara, called ‘‘Roll Up Your Sleeves.’’
If, say, only half the league’s players are vaccinated by summer, that could create divisions in locker rooms — and send a sweeping message that prompts fans to avoid stadiums. In Erie County, N.Y., spectators will require proof of vaccination to attend Buffalo Bills home games. The announcement prompted outrage from Rachel Bush, wife of Bills safety Jordan Poyer, who tweeted that she’s ‘‘alarmed (by) the amount of Americans that think it’s perfectly okay for the government to force an experimental vaccine on citizens.”
Continued Bush: ‘‘`We have pregnant wives. Wives who are breast-feeding. Wives who have already had Covid (so it’s dangerous to get vaccinated now) etc etc. NONE of us are comfortable with getting the vaccine. NONE of us should be forced to do so in order to watch our own husbands play live.’’
She is part of a choir that will continue preaching to the NFL and all sports leagues that make vaccine demands. Goodell could reach out to them, sure, and try to calm the storm.
But why would he? He’s the king of an empire that is too big to care about much of anything, beyond those whopping bank deposits from the networks.
Jay Mariotti, called ‘‘the most impacting Chicago sportswriter of the past quarter-century,’’ is the host of ``Unmuted,’’ a frequent podcast about sports and life (Apple, Spotify, etc.). He’s an accomplished columnist, TV panelist and radio host. As a Los Angeles resident, he gravitated by osmosis to movie projects. Compensation for this column is donated to the Chicago Sun-Times Charity Trust.