MIAMI — The NFL’s new system of enforcing its personal conduct policy debuted with the Deshaun Watson case, and if the whole thing seems just a little bit convoluted, well, it isn’t. It is a lot convoluted! Like, almost laugh-out-loud weird — mostly because it was collectively bargained and somehow agreed to by both the league and its players association.
To summarize, the system changed so NFL commissioner Roger Goodell would no longer be judge, jury and executioner with sole authority to determine suspensions or other punishment for players whose behavior sullied the NFL shield and almighty Integrity Of The League.
So in came a new title, “chief disciplinary officer,” and the league appointed Sue L. Robinson, a retried federal judge. Starting with Watson — only one of the biggest, most salacious and dragged-out player scandals in recent memory — she, not Goodell, would investigate and rule, and her finding would be final.
Sort of. OK, not really!
Turns out Goodell still has the final say, if he wants it.
In effect, the “chief disciplinary officer” now does all the leg work, makes a ruling, and then Goodell can sit back and say, “Nope. Bad ruling,” bang a metaphoric gavel and do whatever the hell he wanted in the first place.
Here’s the punchline: Goodell determines whether he himself or a designee makes the ultimate decision that will be final and binding. Reports Thursday were that he planned to appoint a hand-picked designee. Imagine how that decision played out ...
Commissioner Goodell: “Let’s see, do I want to take on this decision myself and forever be the bad guy in Cleveland? Or do I want to appoint an “independent” designee [Roger winks to himself] who is like-minded and will do what I wish but take all the heat?”
Commissioner Goodell [looking in the mirror]: “Great question, Rog. Let me think about that over lunch.”
So here we are.
Justice works in strange ways, if it works at all, and the NFL is the new example.
Thanks to these convoluted machinations the NFL Players Association astonishingly agreed to that took the punishment-power out of Goodell’s hands (but not really), Deshaun Watson may yet get a penalty closer to what he deserves, after all.
Which puts many of us in the squirmy position of not really wanting Goodell to have all of this power but glad in this case that he does.
The six-game suspension handed Watson by Robinson on Monday hit immediately like a travesty of lenience. A wrist-slap beyond insulting to the 25 women who had stepped forward in civil lawsuits and alleged Watson’s sexual abuse and other creepy improprieties during massage sessions in 2020 and ‘21 while with Houston.
What galled was that the investigation found Watson guilty. It did not exonerate him even if the light sentence made it feel like that.
Robinson in her 16-page report wrote that the NFL had fulfilled “its burden to prove, by a preponderance of the evidence, that Mr. Watson engaged in sexual assault [as defined by the NFL] against the four therapists identified in the report.”
She also ruled that Watson’s behavior “undermines ... the integrity of the NFL,” and that his “predatory conduct cast a negative light on the league and ts players.” She further noted the QB’s “lack of expressed remorse.”
So why the wrist-slap six-game ban? Robinson, in a gut-punch to sexual assault survivors everywhere, differentiated between violent and non-violent sexual conduct.
So the star quarterback the NFL found guilty of multiple sexual assaults gets to be mobbed for autographs and selfies at a Browns practice this week, miss barely one-third of a season and then go about collecting his $230 million guaranteed contract. Almost like none of it ever happened.
Enter Roger Goodell, heroically galloping in on a white steed (an image lending benefit of doubt to the idea Goodell as ever stepped up onto a horse).
The NFL, in failed settlement talks, had sought an indefinite suspension of at least one full season for Watson, along with a fine previously reported to be around $8 million, and treatment for the what led to Watson being a serial predator in the first place.
Those are now much closer to the penalties we can hope for and even expect, although the NFLPA, which agreed to the ultimate power Goodell may now exercise, desperately threatens to sue the NFL in federal court if Watson’s punishment is replaced by a much more severe one.
One cannot imagine the federal court siding with the players association against authority given to Goodell in collective bargaining by the very same players association.
So Deshaun Watson may get his just punishment, after all, even if the NFL needed a convoluted path to get there.
No matter when or how, justice is justice.
