In a post–Ray Rice world, the NFL is fully aware of how it’s perceived when it comes to situations involving transgressions against women. That incident, eight years ago, was a flashpoint, but certainly not an endpoint for the league. Whether further incidents centered on team owners (I count four who’ve been involved in such situations over the past five years alone), the workplace, players or staff, the U.S.’s most popular sports league can’t seem to get out of its own way in these circumstances.
Thursday’s news was another illustration of the knot the NFL has tied itself in.
The past few months, to me, showed the league trying to thread a needle—showing that it is tougher on these matters than it used to be while avoiding another protracted battle in federal court with a player—and find the right exit point from a story that’s hovered over the league for a year and a half now. On the latter count, the NFL can now say it was successful in getting Watson and his camp to sign off on the 11-game suspension, $5 million fine and evaluation-and-treatment plan the quarterback accepted.
David Richard/AP Photo
On the former? Well, that much is actually up to you. And make no mistake, the league cares deeply about optics involving this case. You could argue, even, that they’ve been the primary focus of 345 Park Avenue since the Browns traded for the embattled superstar quarterback in March.
Explaining how we got to this point—where the NFL, NFLPA and Watson’s counsel reached a point of compromise, a couple of months after the idea of that seemed completely hopeless—does the job of bringing that to life. And painting that picture starts with former U.S. district court judge Sue L. Robinson holding a hearing on the matter at the end of June.
The NFL made clear its desire for an indefinite suspension of Watson. The NFLPA and Watson’s camp argued for little, if any, suspension at all. After that, Robinson informed the parties she wouldn’t rule until the first week of August, effectively creating a five-week window for the sides to reach a settlement, and put her in a position that all judges look to find themselves in after hearing civil cases—where she wouldn’t have to rule.
It was clear to those involved that the NFL was uneasy coming out of the hearing after Robinson accepted the cases of four of the 24 women who sued Watson (the league presented the case of a fifth woman, who didn’t sue, and Robinson threw that case out because the NFL hadn’t talked to her). The idea the NFL felt uneasy was bolstered by how the league so aggressively pushed what it sought—a suspension of at least a year—out into the conversation. That way, if Robinson gave Watson less, they could say, “We tried.”
Such was the league’s narrative when Robinson did, in fact, recommend a punishment far short of what the NFL was looking for after the league and union failed to strike a deal before Aug. 1.
After that, commissioner Roger Goodell appointed Peter C. Harvey his designee to consider the league’s appeal, and that’s where the tables were turned—and Watson’s camp clearly felt the way the league had before, that things weren’t going to go their way. So the NFL wanted counseling? Months after saying he didn’t need it, Watson entered it on his own. The league wanted a fine? That got on the table as well, as an AP report revealed last week. And the NFL wanted an apology, too? Watson gave one on camera before the Browns’ preseason opener Friday.
In the end, all the actions and reactions were a precursor for what happened on Thursday, which is obvious in how both Robinson and Harvey effectively created movement that manifested in the three phases of the negotiation:
1) Prior to Robinson’s hearing, again, the NFL maintained it wouldn’t go for less than a full-year suspension, an insistence under which the first set of settlement talks collapsed. Watson’s side was similarly unwilling to compromise, not willing to go past a couple of games, while avoiding a fine.
2) After Robinson’s hearing, both sides pushed off their positions. The NFL offered a deal that included a 12-game suspension, $10 million fine and treatment. Watson’s camp was willing to go to as many as eight games on a suspension without a fine.
3) After Robinson ruled and the appeal was filed, Harvey took the case, and with the divide between the two sides clearly shrinking, he, like Robinson, allowed the sides time to bridge the gap. About two weeks later a middle ground was reached.
The back and forth, in the end, clarified what the sides would accept: Watson simply wanted back on the field in 2022 with as little financial damage as possible, while the league wanted a long suspension, Watson to enter into counseling and treatment plan and a fine that would take back some, or all, of the $10 million the quarterback made while sitting out the entire ’21 season.
A new suspension would acknowledge the seriousness of the accusations; treatment would signal the league trying to rehabilitate Watson; and while he wasn’t suspended last year, the sexual assault and harassment lawsuits against him played a role in the Texans’ inability to find a trade partner to put him on the field in 2021. Bottom line, taking back money he earned through that season would make it easier to position it as a de facto suspension, and get it at least closer to what MLB did in the Trevor Bauer case.
So the league went halfway on the suspension (from 17 games, not to the six Robinson recommended, but to 11), halfway on the fine (from the $10 million that represented Watson’s 2021 base salary to $5 million), and got the treatment and apology (even if the apology was also done halfway). As a result, there won’t be a legal case hanging over the season the way Tom Brady’s did in ’15, and the union might be less inclined, having skin in the deal, to point out how the NFL has treated owners in such cases in the past.
As for whether the deal the NFL agreed to is enough?
That part’s pretty important to the NFL, but, again, that part is also up to you.
