Written by Robbie Adler.
It seems that every year there is some drama surrounding the National Football League (NFL). Be it domestic violence, lawsuits, or drug use, it can be described at best as a capitalizing, morally dubious organization. Now, at the end of another enthralling and story-filled season, I find myself wondering why this type of business possesses an iron grip over the public consumption of professional sports. The answer lies in the product that the NFL promotes, which is not actually the game of football. It is something else we love even more than sports, and that is drama. The world of professional football is a riveting fantasy escape, akin to Narcos and Mad Men, promoting players as its characters. We are hooked and the NFL knows it.
In a televised league that ostensibly markets the game of football, it is the characters and narratives that are behind the national obsession. Once written, a narrative is firmly stuck in place, regardless of changes in the reality of the game. In the recent Super Bowl, for example, where the Denver Broncos defeated the Carolina Panthers in a lackluster and mistake-filled contest, storylines drew more attention than the actual game. Carolina Panthers quarterback Cam Newton, who is normally portrayed as a cocky, fun-loving team leader, was blasted for sulking under his hood during the postgame press conference, a break in character that is clearly not permissible, even after underperforming in the most important game of his career. His Broncos counterpart Peyton Manning, on the other hand, despite delivering a performance that was equally sloppy and forgettable, was lauded for an illustrious end to what is likely his last professional game.
Newton and Manning are both players who have handled themselves well year after year under the intense pressure of public scrutiny. But really we give little regard to what effect our spectatorship may have on the real life players themselves. Such pressure placed on young stars can often lead to unwise decisions and egregious mistakes, especially since these players are offered very little guidance upon entering the NFL. Marshawn Lynch, a retired player for the Seattle Seahawks, who possesses a record with a DUI and hit and run charge, once stated in an interview with ESPN that mistakes are difficult to avoid for young players who have suddenly experienced a life-changing rise to stardom. Though Lynch was able to keep himself together and become a lauded icon of the Seattle franchise, other players, such as Johnny Manziel of the Cleveland Browns, have not been able to escape the legacy of their mistakes. A superstar athlete whose life has been under the microscope since his freshman year at Texas A&M, Manziel’s career has been mired by a streak of poor personal decisions, and he now finds himself unable to escape the criticism of the public. “Johnny Football” now has his narrative set in stone, and it seems unlikely that he will ever escape the entrapment of expectation.
Public consumption is ruthless, and for its part the NFL has its finger firmly placed on the pulse. Fantasy and drama are our demand, and the league acts as the supply. The NFL delights in holding up its players to the whim of public scrutiny, having become adept at crafting storylines and branding players appropriately. At the same time, it recognizes that there is little need to hold players to any real accountability, nor provide substantial support in needed areas such as long-term physical health or emotional guidance. Most players who run into trouble with DUIs or domestic violence charges are subject to fines and suspensions that amount to little more than slaps on the wrist. By setting a standard of discipline through transparent PR stunts while putting very little effort into helping players steer clear of such mistakes, the league quietly endorses such behavior. Negative drama is still drama, thrown up for public consumption, and the NFL believes it is untouchable, often providing coverage of the scandals on its own website. And for the most part, they are right: year after year, viewership ratings continue to rise, and profits continue to flow.
In effect, the NFL acts as a mirror, reflecting back to fans what we most desire. Far from being spectators of a professional sport, we are consumers of a superstar culture, and as long as we continue to indulge in football as soap opera, and the athletes as its characters, the NFL will continue to exploit young men for profit. The real-life consequences of playing football, which range from brain disease and physical debilitations to life-altering legal transgressions, will continue to be swept under the rug, passed off as inconvenient truths that are easier to be ignored. The power to change this dynamic lies not with the league, nor the players, but with us, the fans. This will be a long offseason, and hopefully we will give our obsession some thought before heading to the sports bar come September.