Freedom of speech not always welcomed in NFL
By Michael Silver, Yahoo! Sports
1 hour, 32 minutes ago
Steven Jackson was watching TV when he got the news about Kellen Winslow’s expensive suspension, a development that sent shivers down the Rams halfback’s spine – all the way to the wallet in his back pocket.
“Boy,” he said to his girlfriend, Supriya Harris, “I might need to start watching what I say.”
As an outspoken NFL star who has been repeatedly cautioned by team officials to avoid controversial public comments, Jackson got the message delivered by Cleveland Browns general manager Phil Savage loud and clear. By docking Winslow a game check – in the talented tight end’s case $235,294 – for blasting the club’s handling of staph infections, Savage made it clear that anything a player says can and will be used against him at the team’s discretion.
Or, to put it more bluntly: Put a sock in it, or we’ll put a foot where the sun doesn’t shine.
This is just the latest illustration of a disturbing trend, one which includes an inconsistent and overly harsh approach by the NFL office when it comes to fining employees for criticizing officials and an egregious attempt by some teams to muzzle dissenting or unpopular voices.
First it was Terrell Owens, who among other offenses in 2005 made public statements critical of Philadelphia Eagles management and quarterback Donovan McNabb, provoking a disciplinary process that began with a four-game, $764,706 suspension for conduct detrimental to the team.
Last year, after the Atlanta Falcons cut defensive tackle Grady Jackson, then-teammate DeAngelo Hall ripped the organization and coach Bobby Petrino. That cost Hall $50,000 – the portion of an earlier fine for an on-field meltdown that the organization was prepared to forgive if he behaved to their satisfaction.
Now Winslow, pending an appeal by the NFL Players Association that will be heard next Tuesday, is being told to surrender a substantial share of his personal wealth – and we’re all poorer because of it.
Before some of your heads start to explode, let’s address a few of the visceral arguments against this line of thinking.
Yes, I concede that some speech, at least from a league perspective, is damaging enough to justify monetary sanctions. For instance, statements by players, coaches or owners which call into question the intentions of officials – and thus the integrity of the game – are so potentially harmful to the brand that they should be regulated. I do think there needs to be a distinction between someone voicing disagreement with a call (not fine-worthy, in my opinion) and implying that an official is biased against one’s team. Saying an official is incompetent, as Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones essentially did last month of Ed Hochuli (for which he was later fined $25,000 by the league), would fall somewhere in between.
To elaborate on the first point: The NFL recently fined Miami Dolphins linebacker Joey Porter $20,000 for essentially saying a call by referee Hochuli late in Miami’s Oct. 12 defeat at Houston was wrong. “I thought we won the game, actually, but they kept getting calls,” Porter said. In my opinion, that doesn’t constitute an assault on Hochuli’s or the game’s integrity, and Porter should have been spared the fine. Conversely, when Porter, then with Pittsburgh, said after the Steelers’ 2005 divisional playoff victory over the Colts, “I know (the officials) wanted Indy to win this game … I felt they were cheating us,” the league had every right to fine him. Amazingly, after acknowledging that the officials had blown a key call questioned by Porter, the NFL let him off the hook.
Secondly, I’m well aware that, at least in the cases of Owens and Hall, the players in question were guilty of other disruptive actions that factored into their respective employers’ decision to discipline them. I’m not being so cavalier as to suggest that a boss won’t hold critical comments against an employee and that such behavior might push him to trade or release the player in question. What I’m disputing is the notion that “statements which bother me” can be directly equated to “conduct detrimental to the team,” which I believe is the case with Winslow.
Thirdly, I’ve certainly considered the concept that I or anyone else who conspicuously criticizes his or her employer, in any field, could stand to face serious consequences. (That’s why I make a point of ripping my editors privately. Kidding!)
Finally, as a sports journalist who aspires to get the people I interview to speak openly and expansively, I obviously have a degree of self-interest in all of this. At this point, it’s time to clear up what for some of you is a major misconception: You, too, have a measure of self-interest in players speaking the truth.
I know it’s hard to imagine now that the NFL is an exquisitely packaged, made-for-TV monolithic entertainment machine, but this was a league whose popularity was built on the free publicity that media-friendly commissioner Pete Rozelle openly courted. Currently, we live in an era in which societal attitudes about the media have turned largely negative. Yet, more than ever, fans have an almost insatiable appetite for pro football coverage that is enhanced when players are neither muted nor prone to presenting themselves as painfully and intentionally bland.
And while some of you might insist that you’d happily live in a world in which athletes never gave me and my colleagues the time of day, the bottom line is that it’s not for you to decide. A responsibility to talk to the media is in every standard player contract; it’s an obligation that comes with the privilege of playing pro football.
As Jackson says, “You can’t ask us to talk to the media, and ask us to be honest – I mean, you can’t tell us to lie, and when we start spewing all that chalkboard, cliché stuff, you hate it – and then say it’s ‘conduct detrimental’ anytime we say anything the team might not like. It’s really a thin line.”
In Winslow’s case, I don’t believe he crossed that line. The tight end had recently been hospitalized for what he said was his second staph infection since 2005 – and the seventh such infection from which a Browns player had knowingly suffered during that span. One of them, center LeCharles Bentley, described his ailment as “life-threatening”; it was likely career-ending as Bentley has not played a game since suffering the ailment in 2006. Winslow had a right to be scared and frustrated when, following the Browns’ 14-11 defeat to the Redskins Sunday, he told the Cleveland Plain Dealer, “There’s obviously a problem and we have to fix it. Just look at the history around here.”
Further, Winslow had been the subject of Internet rumors about the source of his undisclosed ailment, and he claimed the Browns had intentionally hid his illness. (Savage later alleged that the team had kept the player’s condition private at Winslow’s insistence.) Winslow said he felt as though he’d been treated like a “piece of meat” and that he was upset Savage hadn’t contacted him during his three-night hospital stay.
Raise your hand if you think Savage’s strong reaction to Winslow’s comments has something to do with the fact that he was called out by name. OK, you can put it down now. Throw in the fact that the two men reportedly had a somewhat heated conversation in a hallway outside the visitors’ locker room at FedEx Field just before Winslow made his comments, and this seems more like “conduct detrimental to Phil Savage” than to the Browns’ organization.
To former Giants halfback Tiki Barber, now an NBC analyst, Winslow’s behavior was understandable.
“I know that coaches and organizations would rather have things handled in-house,” Barber says. “Here’s the problem: If you try to handle it in-house and nothing changes, you almost have no choice but to bring public attention to it. If someone like Kellen Winslow thinks a situation is detrimental him – as a person, not just as a player – he has no choice but to speak up. That’s what this country is founded on: The right to speak your mind, and the notion that public accountability is an essential part of the process.”
As a player, Barber occasionally gave blunt and revealing interviews that riled his employers, but in those cases he made a point of sticking to his convictions. “If you are going to speak your mind, you have to accept that there’s going to be a backlash,” he says. “But you have to be principled enough not to back away from what you say – to know that you are speaking the truth, and that in the end it doesn’t matter what you say, it’s how you play.”
It certainly helped that Barber, who emerged as one of the league’s top backs in the latter part of his career, had the status both as a performer and as a hard-worker to cushion the fallout. Had he been a less integral part of the team, his bosses might have decided his principled outspokenness wasn’t worth the trouble.
Guys like Jeremy Shockey, Pete Kendall and even pre-Patriots Randy Moss weren’t so well-positioned.
And you wonder why NFL writers sometimes rely on anonymous locker-room sources.
On the other hand, recent retirees such as Barber, Michael Strahan, Trent Dilfer, Warren Sapp and Keyshawn Johnson had a vested interest in speaking their minds: In essence, they were auditioning for second careers as TV analysts, and the network executives who control those jobs typically aren’t looking for ex-players who were boring or unrevealing in interviews.
A less cynical way of looking at it: The same drive and intensity that helped turn these men into elite competitors sometimes compels them to ignore discretion and simply tell it like it is. To a proud player, this can be a means of clearing up what he perceives to be the misconceptions of outsiders.
Given the fame and relative fortune enjoyed by many NFL players, albeit with a short career-expectancy, I don’t expect many of you to sympathize with the Winslows of the world. When I reminded Barber, as many of you surely will remind me, that most employees in other endeavors who were openly critical of workplace conditions would risk the wrath of their bosses, he responded, “First of all, most people don’t have to face the media on a regular basis. They don’t have people publicly questioning why you’re not performing every day or whether you’re doing your job well enough. Most people aren’t forced to be publicly accountable in their jobs. They can (expletive) up and find a hole to hide in. Everything a pro football player does is scrutinized. That’s the difference.”
Another distinction Barber makes: “Look, I realize there’s a tendency to think that sports are trivial. But Kellen Winslow’s not just complaining about football. This is his livelihood. If he thinks working conditions (are unsafe), of course he’s stressed.”
I’m glad that the NFLPA, which too often as of late has been tepid in defending the rights of its members, seems to be solidly in Winslow’s corner. I hope that the union convinces an arbitrator to award him most or all of the game check the Browns rescinded and that such an outcome reminds players around the league that reasonably free speech still exists in the NFL.
In the meantime, if I decide to write a story on the Rams’ resurgence and Jackson tells me that he’s “playing within myself and taking things one game at a time,” you can thank Phil Savage.