I’ve spent the morning debating whether to write about the state of Roger Goodell’s NFL, but this overheard exchange may seal the deal.
Two co-workers — and I work with professional auditors — were opining in the men’s room whether the Super Bowl was fixed, whether the last call at the end was, as one said, “You know, politics.” You know, because the commish and the Pats’ owner are best buddies.
First: Come on. No coach wants to lose the Super Bowl. That’s just dumb. And yet… and yet these two men, whose job it is to pore over corporate accounts looking for any sort of intentional or unintentional wrongdoing, unironically opined that a coach might have thrown the game so the Commish’s favorite team would win. And I’m not in the heart of Seattle; here in Dallas, all we care is that the Iggles or Potomic Drainage Basin Indigenous Peoples don’t win the Super Bowl.
The NFL has a trust issue.
As Gregg Easterbrook often says, the league doesn’t have to be America’s favorite sport. Baseball was once, remember, until real and imagined scandal brought it low. And this past season has been rife with real and imagined scandal, culminating in the Super Bowl win whose trip to the Big Game is openly attributed to breaking the rules. That’s not even taking into consideration the laughably tone-deaf (and I am being incredibly generous there) responses to the Ray Rice and Adrian Peterson issues.
I love football. I love the NFL. Something’s got to be done. Because when “Deflategate” or “Ballghazi” or whatever fizzles — and it will, because what commish would take back the Lombardi trophy from the team responsible for his ascendancy? — my co-workers won’t be the only ones floating ridiculous conspiracy theories. After that, it’s a quick trip to “eh, the game is rigged” and an exodus of fans.
