Is There Life After Football?
Page 7
Clearly, compensation is much better today than it was for players who retired before the 1990s. Those players were often in financial situations similar to school teachers, auto workers, insurance salesmen, and shop keepers. Players lucky enough to come along after 1993, however, were often “millionaires”—at least in the sense that that they likely earned over a million dollars if they had average careers. While the financial parameters of the bubble were not nearly as opulent for old-timers, even those back in the day had it relatively good. But for NFL players since free agency, the bubble has become something of a Garden of Eden, snakes and all.
No Guarantees
Perhaps the most important factor affecting player compensation is the NFL’s longstanding practice of not guaranteeing long-term contracts.33 Unlike the NBA or MLB, the only fully assured money in NFL contracts comes from signing bonuses. A player may be released at any time, whereupon the player’s contract terminates and the team and/or league has only limited financial obligations (e.g., severance benefits). In effect, multiyear NFL contracts are a series of one-year contracts. This means that many of the dollar figures thrown around when hyping a player’s contract bear only a loose relationship to what the player may actually be paid.34
Looking at Aaron Rodgers’ contract, which is touted as a five-year, $110 million deal, Rodgers is actually guaranteed only $40 million—the amount he will be paid in 2013 by way of salary and signing bonus. To illustrate what can become of non-guaranteed contracts, consider what happened to Nnamdi Asomugha. In 2011, the Philadelphia Eagles signed Asomugha to a five-year, $60 million contract, with only $25 million guaranteed through signing bonuses, special provisions, and his first-year salary.35 Disappointed with Asomugha’s performance, the Eagles released him in the spring of 2013, before the beginning of the 2013 season when Asomugha was scheduled to make $15 million. In all, Asomugha made less than half of the money that was written into his deal. In contrast, NBA and MLB contracts are almost fully guaranteed, meaning players will receive the amount indicated in their contracts, barring a relatively limited set of circumstances that could void them. Thus, when Alex Rodriguez signed his ten-year, $275 million contract with the New York Yankees in 2008, he was assured to receive every penny of the $275 million (except for the year he has been suspended for violating league drug policies). But should an NFL player suffer serious injury, he could be released and receive only a fraction of the remaining money on his contract.
Non-guaranteed contracts almost always work against players’ financial interests. They give teams the option of releasing a player if they no longer think he is worth the money. Or they can use the threat of release to coerce players into financial concessions—to renegotiate their contracts. This happened twice to Packers linebacker A.J. Hawk. In 2006, Hawk—a first round draft choice—signed a six-year, $37.5 contract, making him, on average, one of the league’s highest-paid linebackers. He became a solid starter, but failed to live up to the “big play” expectations the Packers held for him. From the team’s standpoint, the $10 million Hawk was scheduled to receive in 2011 was excessive. Early in 2011, the team released Hawk, but resigned him three days later to a restructured contract with terms more favorable to the Packers ($33.75 million for an additional five years). Later, in 2013, with renewed threats to release Hawk, the Packers again convinced him to renegotiate his contract, getting him to forego $10 million for the 2013 season and accept a restructuring that will pay him $10.6 million over the final three years of his contract, compared with the $17.85 million originally stipulated in his 2011 contract. Thus, regardless of specific details, a player’s long-term contract frequently overstates its actual value.36
Structure and Control
We got a playbook for on the field, but they gave us one for off the field too.37
NFL teams manage their investments carefully. They leave little to chance when it comes to maximizing player performance, subjecting players to highly regimented, rigidly structured working conditions that belie the public’s perception of NFL players’ lavish, freewheeling lives. It’s a continuation of the pattern established in college where players increasingly cede control of their lives to the football enterprise.
But, once in the NFL, players now have money in their pockets—typically more than they’ve ever seen in their lives—and a small measure of time that’s actually their own. They’re “not in Kansas anymore,” both literally and figuratively,38 but unlike their college days, they’ve got plenty of cash to spend and more opportunities to spend it. Younger players begin to exercise adult freedoms and discretion, and, while teams want their organizations staffed by mature, responsible individuals, they also believe that winning requires full commitment, round-the-clock discipline, and the subordination of individuality. Thus, the NFL is vigilant in structuring players’ lives, even as players try to “stretch their wings.”
Both sides agree that excellence on the field demands full commitment off it. To that end, preparation and training consume almost all of players’ time in-season, and much of it during the off season. It may not be 24/7 for 12 months a year, but it comes close, as George Koonce recalls:
In season, players went to work at the stadium around 7:15 a.m. for the first meeting and worked until around 5:00 p.m. They saw doctors and trainers, participated in strength and conditioning activities, studied film, reviewed their playbook, then they practiced from 11:00 to 11:45 on the field, and then ate lunch at noon. The second practice started at 1:45 and would go until 3:45, after which we would shower, then study practice film to watch what we did in practice so we could make corrections. Film study lasted an hour or a little longer. If you were injured, you had to fit in treatment and rehab somewhere, sometime before or after meetings and practice.39
There’s little time left outside the team’s jurisdiction. Players typically get Tuesdays off, but many of them show up for injury treatment, light workouts, and film study anyway. While details change from player to player, team to team, and generation to generation, the story remains largely the same. It may not have been true 50 years ago, but today the NFL is a full-time job.40
This is true of the ever-shortening off season as well. Training camp starts in July and preseason games begin in August. The regular season runs from September to January, and the postseason can extend well into February. That leaves four months of off season that are nevertheless filled with informal weightlifting and fitness regimens, injury rehabilitation, workouts and rehab at the team’s training facilities, “voluntary” organized team activities (OTAs) that all but a few veterans attend, and mandatory “mini-camps.” “Organization” is a hallmark of the NFL, so there’s little flexibility. Schedules are crafted, posted, and enforced. Even seemingly informal activities like meals and conversations with representatives of the media are timed down to the minute. Koonce recalls the schedule for a typical day during an off-season mini-camp:
6:15 a.m.
Shuttle departs to facility
7:00 a.m.
Breakfast
8:00 a.m.
Team meeting
10:15 a.m.
Break; prepare for workout
10:30 a.m.
Weight workout
12:15 p.m.
Lunch
12:45 p.m.
Media access
1:15 p.m.
Team meeting
1:30 p.m.
Special teams meeting
2:15 p.m.
Position meeting
3:30 p.m.
Break; prepare for practice
3:50 p.m.
Shuttle departs for practice field
4:00 p.m.
On-field practice
5:30 p.m.
Practice ends
6:15 p.m.
Dinner; player development lectures
7:00 p.m.
Dinner concludes
7:15 p.m.
Shuttle returns to hotel
A training camp day might be similarly struct
ured, except it would generally include a second practice session. And, of course, there are curfews—in your room and lights out—every night. Being absent, late, or inattentive, missing curfew, forgetting a playbook, having unauthorized female “guests” in team quarters, and a litany of other offenses are subject to hefty fines.41
While this schedule seems packed from dawn to dusk, note that it doesn’t include injury treatment, rehab, routine taping, tape removal, showering, or the myriad other things that grab a few minutes here and there. On top of this, nearly all players put in additional hours of individual film study. This isn’t formally mandated, but without it, a player isn’t around very long.42 In addition, many players spend time with the media, and teams often encourage players to participate in promotional activities and charitable work “after hours” or on the occasional off day. As Andrew Brandt, former player agent, Packers vice president, and league consultant, suggests, NFL players’ lives are thoroughly organized by the game: “Team meetings, position meetings, practices, spring practices, lifting and running sessions, team meals, bus rides, flights, team prayers, etc. The player’s job is to show up and perform; the team takes care of the rest.”43
When the team “takes care of the rest,” it doesn’t stop at the gates of the playing field or even the locker room doors. Among professional sports, the NFL is notorious for its desire to control every aspect of its domain.44 Emphasizing the benevolent side of control, teams pile on what they often refer to as “player assistance.” This impressed Brandt: “It always struck me how many resources we [the Packers] had for our players. When players entered Lambeau Field, staff was there to coach them, treat them, feed them, train them, counsel them, etc. And their lockers were meticulously prepared for them according to the daily schedule, with practice, workout or game gear cleanly laid out.”45 But this is only part of the story. The Packers, like other NFL organizations, have a director of player development (the “PD”), a position held by George Koonce while he and Brandt were both in the Packers’ front office. While player development and assistance are presumably in a player’s best interest, team activities along these lines can also be perniciously intrusive.
Most PDs are former players. Koonce took the position with Green Bay six years after he left the game, seven after his last appearance as a Packer. PDs’ responsibilities vary by team. Generally, they include helping players acclimate to and manage their roles as NFL players, both on and off the field. This might involve help with mundane logistics such as orienting new players to the area, finding an apartment to rent or a house to buy, hiring a nanny to help with child care, or doing background checks on players’ potential employees. But the assistance can also be more specialized, such as helping players make career decisions, seek internships, finish college, or find professional representation or investment counseling. Sometimes the PD’s counseling extends into psychological and emotional realms as he tries to help players with personal problems.
The PD’s biggest responsibility is helping first-year or new players make the transition into the NFL by organizing programs and teaching basic life skills, such as managing a biweekly paycheck and balancing a checkbook. Increasingly, PDs are involved in guiding older players in planning their transition out of the game. And, of course, along the way, PDs advise players regarding their expected contributions to their teammates, the community, and team chemistry. Some PDs view themselves as mentors to their players, making themselves available to talk about football, everyday life, or anything else that might be on their minds. They try to impart insights from their own experience. “For me, I have to realize I was a young guy at one time,” offers Redskins director of player development Phillip Daniels. “I can’t tell guys not to go out to the club, but I always tell them how to go out. I mean, nothing good happens after 12 o’clock. If the club closes at two, leave at 12.”46
The aim of this assistance is ostensibly to help players and their families address the practical challenges and pressures of daily life, while minimizing distractions. They help players focus on their jobs, keep their lives in order, and stay out of trouble. They even provide chapel services and bible study groups to cater to players’ spiritual lives. But sometimes this special handling comes perilously close to babysitting players. Teams provide drivers and rides for players who go out on the town. They arrange and monitor drug and alcohol rehabilitation stints, check up on players’ aftercare, probation and parole status, and even check in with players’ parents to make sure that players’ lives are on track.47 Viewed in the most positive light, these measures are ways in which teams look out for players’ best interests. Skeptics, however, note that these activities resemble their insidious cousins, surveillance and subjugation.48
Regarded in these more pernicious terms, player assistance and development are subtle extensions of what sports journalist Mike Freeman calls the NFL’s “irrational desire to control everything around them, every player, every member of the franchise, every reporter, every blade of grass.”49
No detail is too small or insignificant. Most NFL teams have strict dress codes for road games, when players are traveling through hotels and airports. Often, players are required to wear suits or sports coats and ties. The code may even extend to requiring black dress socks. Rules for home games might be slightly more relaxed, but still call for “professional appearance”: no T-shirts, flip-flops, or jeans.50 A dress code even shows up in the NFL rule book and on the field, specifying in great detail how players must dress on the field before and during games, including helmets, jerseys, socks, shoes, colors, materials, styles, and logos. Players are fined thousands of dollars if they violate any rules.51 The NFL employs official inspectors—known as the “Uniform Police” or “Clothes Nazis”—to inspect players during pregame warm-ups and notify players of violations for which they could be fined.52 If socks aren’t pulled up to the correct height, or the color of taped ankles isn’t up to code, it costs the players money.
While it overstates matters to imply that the NFL is a “police state,” player assistance and pervasive control are two sides of the same coin. Player development requires monitoring and managing players’ actions and behavior. The entailed surveillance inevitably implicates power and control over players’ lives.53 While this undoubtedly has positive ramifications for the quality of the game on the field, its effects on players’ lives are decidedly more mixed. It contributes to a rigidly structured, all-encompassing bubble.
Extraordinary Treatment
The bubble comes fully equipped with benefits and perks. It’s more of the exceptional treatment players have received since they were teens, but being special in the NFL is a substantial upgrade. The most obvious difference is that perks in the NFL can be “above board.” There’s no need for a booster to surreptitiously slip players hundred-dollar bills in a handshake. Indeed, the teams themselves provide for almost everything imaginable related to playing the game. Off the field and outside the game, fans and followers show their appreciation any way they’d like.
“I’m Spoiled and I Love It”
With geopolitical tensions running high over the Berlin Crisis of 1961, President Kennedy ordered a buildup of the U.S. armed forces, called National Guard and reserve forces to active duty, and doubled the military draft quota. Among others, Green Bay Packers Ray Nitschke, Boyd Dowler, and Paul Hornung were ordered to report for active duty. Almost immediately, Senator Alexander Wiley from Wisconsin requested that the Department of Defense defer Hornung and Nitschke until the end of the season. Widespread public outcry scotched that proposal, so the players all reported. Through the regular season, however, all three were granted weekend passes allowing Nitschke and Dowler to play in every game and Hornung in all but two. The Packers rolled to the NFL’s Western Division championship and were set to face the New York Giants in the title game in late December. Hornung was scheduled to begin a six-day leave beginning the Tuesday after the championship game, but when he asked for the leave to be moved u
p a few days, his captain refused. Hornung immediately called Coach Vince Lombardi and explained the situation. This was apparently the final straw for Lombardi. He told Hornung, “Let me make a phone call, and I’ll call you back in 20 minutes.” A few minutes later, Lombardi was back on the line: “I think your captain is about ready to get a phone call that will get you off to play.” Lombardi had called President Kennedy, and Hornung was soon on his way to Green Bay to play the Giants.54
Very few NFL players get presidential favors, but most of them get special handling. Baltimore Colts linebacker Mike Curtis once proclaimed: “I haven’t held a job in my life. I play a game for a living. I’m spoiled and I love it.”55 Most players would agree. Inside teams’ training facilities, players have lavish creature comforts. Off the field, teams supply special perks for players and their families, such as movie tickets, guest passes to Disneyland, golf club memberships, and the like. Outside the team’s realm, NFL players get assorted “freebies” or other tokens of generosity. Players seldom need reservations to be immediately seated in a restaurant. Many get their meals and drinks “on the house.” Special deals on automobiles, jewelry, and clothing constantly beckon. Family members take advantage, too. Says one former player’s wife, “Some NFL women have a virtual Rolodex of hook-ups. They talk about dropping the ‘Eagle bomb’ or the ‘Forty-Niner bomb’ during conversations with merchants in hopes of getting a lower price.”56 The bubble indeed has its privileges.