Authors: Jeff Benedict,Don Yaeger
A
s of this writing, the collective bargaining agreement between the owners and the players contained no prohibitions against or punishments for domestic violence. Why? The crime is not seen as a direct threat to the integrity of the game. Drug use, gambling, and in some cases the unlawful possession or use of a firearm authorize the commissioner to discipline a player.
The following excerpts are taken from the NFL’s official policy and programs:
Substances of abuse.
“Substance abuse can lead to on-the-field injuries, to alienation of the fans, to diminished job performance, and to personal hardship,” according to the NFL’s policy for substances of abuse. “Discipline for violations of the law relating to use, possession, acquisition, sale, or distribution of substances of abuse, or conspiracy to do so, will remain at the discretion of the Commissioner.”
Guns and weapons.
“Whether possessed legally or illegally, guns and other weapons of any kind are dangerous. You and your family can easily be the losers if you carry or keep these items in your home. You must not possess these weapons while traveling on League-related business. …” The policy goes on to say, “If you violate this policy on guns and other weapons, you are subject to discipline, including suspension from playing.” Ironically, not a single player who used a gun while assaulting his wife or girlfriend— such as Patrick Bates and Tim Barnett—faced any discipline from the commissioner.
Gambling.
Accepting bribes, failing to report a bribe offer, betting on NFL games, and associating with gamblers are identified a “conduct [that] may result in severe penalties, up to and including a fine and/or suspension from the NFL for life.”
Despite the NFL’s less than stellar record on dealing with players arrested for domestic violence, the league’s director of player programs, Dr. Lem Burnham, was offered a seat on the National Advisory Council on the Violence Against Women Act. The council consists of prominent leaders (physicians, law enforcement officers, entertainers, scholars, and domestic violence specialists) from around the country, all of whom are appointed by Attorney General Janet Reno and Secretary of Health and Human Services Donna Shalala, who chair the commission.
The national committee meets a few times a year in an attempt to design policy strategies to improve law enforcement response to domestic violence and to reduce the frequency of spousal abuse in the country. The NFL’s Burnham was offered a seat on the council as a result of the league’s particular influence on young men in the United States.
The authors interviewed members of the council, including Bonnie Campbell, of the United States Justice Department; Norm Stamper, chief of police for the city of Seattle; and Vickii Coffey, a member of the board of directors for the Chicago Foundation for Women. All three wholly endorsed Burnham’s presence on the council and praised his efforts. Nonetheless, the committee members each expressed frustration with the league’s unwillingness to confront the problem it faces within its own ranks.
“It is a credit to the NFL that they are represented on this advisory council,” said Stamper. “It’s also incumbent upon the leadership of the National Football League to do everything possible to communicate the message of prevention and be unequivocal in their response to situations where domestic violence has occurred. And I think the track record is spotty at best.”
Similar to the complaints raised by Vermont Congressman Bernard Sanders, members of the advisory council voiced their dissatisfaction to Burnham over the NFL’s attitude of denial. Chief Stamper, among others, directly raised this contradiction with Dr. Burnham at one of the council meetings. The authors asked Stamper how Burnham responded: “The substance of the response was that the NFL does take this problem seriously and that the problem is no more widespread within the sports arena. And that through United Way ads and contributions to the United Way, the NFL has made an enormous contribution to the cause of ending domestic violence.”
Ironically, in the NFL’s letter to Sanders which accused him of unfairly singling out players, NFL senior vice president Joe Brown wrote, “The NFL is already working with President Clinton, Attorney General Reno and other public leaders and business executives through the President’s Advisory Council on Violence Against Women.” What Brown did not say was that the council’s consensus was that the league’s ability to reduce domestic violence was undercut by recurring arrests of NFL players for wife beating.
“We can all benefit from celebrating successes and acknowledging contributions, but it’s clearly still a problem and it’s a big problem that needs to be addressed head on,” Chief Stamper insisted. “Pride and loyalty to one’s organization are understandable and admirable qualities. But I don’t think we can let them stand in the way of doing the right thing—which is stepping up and intensifying our efforts to prevent that kind of behavior in the first place. That means communicating in advance that we’re simply not going to tolerate it. And where it does happen, to move quickly with appropriate and necessary due process rights being respected to deal with it.” The NFL is not doing either.
When Dr. Burnham was contacted by the authors, he declined comment.
N
FL management is trying to sell a product,” said domestic violence judge Ed Newman. “They became, perhaps a little late in the game, more proactive for marketing purposes. They’re not totally altruistic. It’s not strictly because it’s right. They’re doing it, in part, because they want to sell a wholesome product. They want America’s kids to see the players as role models.”
Despite the NFL’s insistence that it is addressing the problem through public service announcements and contributions, the national advisory committee has been unable to persuade the league to use its high-profile players to appear in public service announcements denouncing domestic violence. This puzzled some council members. “There is an enormous fear on the part of the professional sports associations to even, for example, do PSAs with one of their more popular athletes for fear that six months later he’ll be arrested and they’ll look foolish,” said Bonnie Campbell in an interview conducted in her office at the Justice Department. “They’re very gun-shy. They’re almost schizophrenic. They really want to help, but they don’t know who the batterers are and they think it will come back to bite them.”
What to Do
The advisory council members, along with other experts interviewed, agreed unanimously that punishment is an essential part of correcting and reducing domestic violence—something the NFL does not do. “I’m asked all the time, ‘Why do men batter?’” said Campbell. “There’s a very simple answer. They batter because they can and we let them. There are no consequences. Until men are stigmatized for battering, punished legally, and held accountable in their lives, they will continue to abuse because it gets them what they want. If there’s a connection between athletes and violence it has to do with power and control—who’s got it and who doesn’t.”
The experts interviewed by the authors agreed that players who abused women should be suspended and in some cases dismissed altogether. But there was not unanimity over whether a single incident should trigger disciplinary measures.
Regardless, the NFL has
never
suspended even one of the many players who have beaten their wives or girlfriends.
“What if a player used drugs?” asked Campbell. “He’d be fired, wouldn’t he? If he gambled it wouldn’t even be debated. I don’t understand why hurting another person in the worst kind of betrayal can continue without consequence. That’s wrong whether you are a pro football player, a doctor, or a lawyer at the Justice Department. It is wrong morally and legally.”
“The NFL has to take the situation as it is,” said Stamper. “Sugarcoat it, underplay it to make it look or smell better, I think, is a huge mistake. Present it with accuracy and clarity. What’s the nature of the problem? Freeze-frame on that.”
Campbell disputed the NFL’s claim that due process prevents them from taking punitive measures against players who criminally abuse their wives and girlfriends. “The due process argument doesn’t apply any more for battering than it does for drugs,” she said. “For example, the FBI has taken the position that if you are a law enforcement officer and you beat your wife once, you’re gone.”
Is the FBI any less concerned with due process than the NFL?
Campbell, nonetheless, maintained that the league should maintain some level of flexibility in their disciplinary procedures. As for those players who demonstrate a repeated problem, however, experts agree that termination is the answer. When the case of Miami Dolphins wide receiver Lamar Thomas (see Chapter 8) was brought to the attention of Bonnie Campbell, she said: “That’s inappropriate, clearly inappropriate. If I were developing a policy I wouldn’t be ambivalent about it. I’d make players sign the same kind of statement regarding domestic violence that they sign with regard to drug use. At some point, if there are three or four allegations, you’ve got to ask yourself, ‘What is really happening here?’”
The Lamar Thomas case was also brought to the attention of Judge Ed Newman. “For some of those who are domestic violence abusers, it’s too late for reform,” said Judge Newman, who pointed out that this was the exception rather than the rule in the NFL.
“There are criminals who cannot be redeemed. There are batterers who can’t be redeemed. The domestic violence batterer who is a chronic batterer and doesn’t seem to respond to the treatment, it may be a three-strikes-and-you’re-out type of deal. An argument can be made that that’s what should happen in the NFL.”
While recognizing that the due process rights of players arrested for domestic violence is a viable concern, the seriousness of this crime nonetheless mandates that the NFL significantly step up its response to players who batter. By doing so, there is a potential for the league to see an overall decrease in other crimes attributed to players. “Domestic violence really helps to create an atmosphere of crime in the home that spills out onto the streets and follows children to their schools,” said Seattle police chief Stamper. “There are so many victims of that form of violence, which I see as the most insidious form of violence in our country.”
Judge Newman echoed Stamper’s view. “Domestic violence spawns generational effects, drug abuse, a multitude of other problems,” Newman said. “It is one of the first causes for social evils. It is a cycle for violence. It is a systemic problem. It is possible to show it as a first cause and predictor for other problems—truancy, dropout rates, drug problems, criminal activity, a repeat cycle of violence.”
However, experience has shown that the mighty dollar is what dictates the NFL’s behavior. Without sufficient resolve and pressure from the public, who pay to watch players perform, criminal violence in the homes of America’s most celebrated athletes will continue. “It’s time for the American public to stick its collective face into the face of professional sports and say, ‘It’s time to stop this behavior,’” said Chief Stamper. “Here are people who are, whether they like it or not, in positions that are conceived of as role models. And every time a single player on a ball club engages in that kind of behavior it really sends a wrong message. The real question now is ‘What are we going to do about it?’ And I think the challenge, not just for the NFL, but to every quarter in our society, is to communicate that domestic violence is criminal.”
The Elephant in the Room
The Race Card.
As Johnnie Cochran so dramatically proved, it can trump any DNA evidence, outpoint any statistics, or be used to bluff any jury. It is the card that can make businesses, politicians, researchers, and even journalists fold when it is pulled. So daunting are the race card’s consequences that the mere threat of its use can make important subjects seemingly disappear from our collective radar screens.
Why, then, should it be a surprise when the NFL, faced with mounting criticism of its players’ off-the-field conduct, reaches for the bottom of the deck and plays the race card?
Just ask Vermont Congressman Bernard Sanders (see previous chapter). Sanders, along with other leaders in Washington, called for the NFL to “step forward” and address the repeated incidents of domestic violence within the NFL’s own ranks. NFL senior vice president Joe Brown rebuffed Congressman Sanders in an April 19, 1996, letter which read in part: “To single out athletes will unfavorably serve to perpetuate stereotypes—including as to ethnic and racial groups….” Brown then warned that any attempt on the part of Sanders to introduce his resolution would be “open to criticism as discriminatory.”
Like Sanders, the authors were given a subtle hint that the league would adopt a similar strategy to criticize our book. When the authors contacted the NFL and requested an interview with Commissioner Tagliabue in March of 1998, NFL spokesperson Greg Aiello declined. He then added, “You … are trying to sell a book and it’s a book that is going to stereotype athletes as criminals, most of whom are black—let’s face it.”
The authors’ attempt here is to “face it”—publicly—and attempt to provide some perspective.
In the course of researching this book, the authors read countless press reports of NFL players who had been charged with crimes. A cursory sampling of the photographs accompanying many of these reports leaves the impression that it is virtually always black players who are in trouble with the law. While press pictures and headlines are hardly a reliable basis for drawing such conclusions, that is often all that readers are left with. For all the reporting on crimes committed by athletes, there has been almost no attempt to explain the apparent discrepancy between the number of black and white professional athletes being charged with crimes, or whether black players are in fact arrested at higher rates than white players.
Why hasn’t this subject been dealt with? There are numerous answers to that question. First off, race is arguably the most sensitive topic in this nation’s public discourse. In an effort to avoid stereotyping, or to even be perceived as stereotyping, the race component of the athlete-crime issue is delicately sidestepped. The problem, of course, is that as long as professional football players and basketball players (the overwhelming majority of whom are black) are celebrities in American culture, their misdeeds will continue to dominate the headlines. Without some context to go along with the litany of reports showing black athletes in handcuffs, stereotypes will persist.