IT’S ELEMENTARY, WATSON: NFL IS PROTECTING A SUPERSTAR
Despite months of investigations into allegations from 22 women, the league remains suspiciously mum about Deshaun Watson, inviting suggestions that Roger Goodell prefers not to discipline a prized QB
A second-string tackle would have been purged long ago, if not castrated and beheaded. But Deshaun Watson? He’s a protected chess piece, one of a half-dozen quarterbacking marvels upon whom a $16-billion-a-year league is built. To paraphrase Sherlock Holmes, it’s elementary, my dear Watson, why this 25-year-old man hasn’t been disciplined yet by Roger Goodell, the NFL’s law-and-order commissioner.
He’s a thrillmaker, you see, the kind who creates dazzling plays that win games, lure eyeballs, sell tickets and tantalize gamblers — not necessarily in that order of league importance.
Never mind the staggering allegations of sexual assault and inappropriate conduct — the 22 civil lawsuits and 10 criminal complaints from seemingly every massage therapist in the American South. Never mind Friday’s report by the New York Times, which says at least 10 women spoke to the Houston Police Department as far back as last spring and accused Watson of sexual assault and unwanted touching — with one document stating: “Complainant was sexually assaulted by the suspect. One suspect. No arrest. Complainant willing to prosecute.” Just days before the regular season, Watson remains in a hazy and disturbing state of limbo, still capable of suiting up for a game or being traded by the Houston Texans to a franchise daring to risk its local public standing and trust.
Investigations have been ongoing for months — Houston police, the FBI, the NFL — but, to date, no criminal charges have been filed. Thus, Goodell refrains from using his usual judge-and-jury powers and stubbornly refuses to place Watson on the commissioner’s exempt list, conveniently leaning on the league’s past resistance to basing punishment on civil proceedings alone. A national powder keg has been kept on pause. And once again, Goodell invites more heaping criticism about his reckless, inconsistent decision-making on matters of personal conduct.
Know how freaky-deaky this case has become? The league was forced to acknowledge Watson’s situation in a video honoring the Top 100 players, as voted by their peers. Finishing 18th on the 2021 list, he was introduced by a highlight narrator who couldn’t ignore the truth.
“Nobody knows when Deshaun Watson will take the field again,” the voice said. “His future is uncertain, but his talent is unquestioned. The skill is no mystery, almost everything else is.”
Awkward? Bizarre?
No, outrageous. Some would say disgusting, repulsive.
“There’s no finite answer. There’s no definite answer at this point,’’ said Texans general manager Nick Caserio, repeating the same exhausting words that beg for a resolution that somehow isn’t imminent.
Again, even if it stretches the borders of incredulity when 22 women are involved, I must reiterate my stance about athletes and the law: It isn’t our place to predetermine guilt or innocence unless we were in the rooms with Watson and the masseuses. But as seen in Major League Baseball’s ongoing dance with pitcher Trevor Bauer, who has been accused of sexual assault by two women, leagues prefer that criminal charges are filed to further justify wielding their own legal hammers. It’s possible both cases will be dropped. But unlike the NFL, which likely would let Watson merrily return to the field and re-assert his trade demands, MLB has no interest in letting Bauer off the hook. In an ESPN story by Jeff Passan — who gathered input from two dozen sources, including “executives, owners, lawyers, players and others familiar with how the league’s domestic violence policy operates’’ — MLB made it clear this week that Bauer could face a suspension of one to two seasons even if the Los Angeles County District Attorney’s office doesn’t file charges.
That’s largely because MLB and his current employer, the Los Angeles Dodgers, carry agendas against Bauer. Through the years, he has been a social-media bully who frequently targeted commissioner Rob Manfred for his failings, ratted out other pitchers for using illegal substances (while hypocritically doing the same) and, much worse, openly harassed women and mocked transgender people. In retrospect, his 2019 comments to Sports Illustrated — defining his three rules in a hookup-sex relationship — look downright creepy. Said Bauer: “One: no feelings. As soon as I sense you’re developing feelings, I’m going to cut it off, because I’m not interested in a relationship and I’m emotionally unavailable. Two: no social media posts about me while we’re together, because private life stays private. Three: I sleep with other people. I’m going to continue to sleep with other people. If you’re not OK, with that, we won’t sleep together, and that’s perfectly fine. We can just be perfectly polite platonic friends.’’
You don’t think MLB wants to plow-drive this guy off the planet? You don’t think the Dodgers want to stop paying him the largest single-season salary in baseball history and recoup a fat portion of what has become a hideously regrettable contract for the franchise of Jackie Robinson, Vin Scully and Dodger Blue — $102 million over three years? MLB used the ESPN piece to send a direct message to Bauer’s camp: Be prepared for an ugly courtroom throwdown, no matter what the D.A. decides.
The NFL’s treatment of Watson, at least so far, couldn’t be more different. Even if criminal charges are filed, Goodell has little interest in running him out of the league. Unlike MLB, which doesn’t need Bauer and has too many other existential problems to count, the NFL never has been more powerful or prosperous after signing long-term TV deals exceeding $113 billion. It can afford to wait on Watson, knowing Americans are dealing with a pandemic and wearisome life issues and aren’t as emotional about him as they were about Ray Rice, Adrian Peterson, Ezekiel Elliott, Michael Vick and similar problem children. While Rice never returned to the league, Peterson and Elliott did in recent seasons — and the latter has been treated by fans (and HBO’s Hard Knocks) as if his domestic violence case never happened.
Pro football players are betting pawns now. And the biggest pawns are the best quarterbacks, who move the popularity and gambling needles while driving the league economy like no other set of athletes in sports. It should raise eyebrows when two of Watson’s accusers, in a Sports Illustrated story, said they resented “victim-blaming’’ and “patronizing’’ when questioned by NFL investigators. It suggests Watson is being protected by a league that needs his starpower, especially if the Texans trade him to a key market such as Philadelphia, Miami or Denver. The Dolphins are reported to be the most likely destination, despite the presence of Tua Tagovailoa at quarterback. Fortunately, coach Brian Flores seemed to quash the Watson idea without mentioning him by name. His message: character counts.
“There are a lot of things we weigh when we're making decisions -- fit on the team, overall talent, salary cap," Flores said. “When we're talking about a player or players, we're always trying to do what is best for the Miami Dolphins. We want a group that is tough, smart, competitive, loves to play and is team-first. Those are the types of guys we're looking for. We have a high standard for the people we have in the organization. We want people with high character throughout the building."
But without a criminal charge, the league might stick with precedent and take no action. If so, the spin machine immediately will remind one and all about Deshaun Watson’s previously unquestioned good character. He’ll voice his disgust again about the Texans’ organization, possibly the worst in the league, and he’ll be traded to a team that embraces him. The fans won’t, at first, but when he responds with a passing season comparable to 2020 — 4,823 yards, 33 touchdowns, only seven picks — they’ll embrace him, too.
As the voice in the Top 100 video pointed out, “Quite simply, he can do things on the football field that others can’t.’’
Which, in the NFL’s view, is all that matters.
Jay Mariotti, called “the most impacting Chicago sportswriter of the past quarter-century,’’ writes sports columns for Substack and a Wednesday media column for Barrett Sports Media while appearing on some of the 1,678,498 podcasts in production today. He’s an accomplished columnist, TV panelist and radio talk host. Living in Los Angeles, he gravitated by osmosis to film projects. Compensation for this column is donated to the Chicago Sun-Times Charity Trust.