The NFL's quixotic and monumentally boneheaded effort to dirty up the reputation of its biggest single brand – New England Patriots quarterback and human cologne ad Tom Brady – ended in farce on Thursday.
U.S. district court judge Richard Berman ruled that Brady's four-game suspension in a ball-deflation scandal should be erased. He determined that the NFL had acted arbitrarily in denying Brady an understanding of the case against him, including what he was being accused of.
He scolded league commissioner Roger Goodell for dispensing "his own brand of industrial justice." In each reference to the multimillion-dollar probe that resulted in Brady's punishment, Berman put the word "independent" in quotation marks.
In an elegantly haughty decision, Berman made all the involved parties seem rather small, which is a dangerous look for the biggest sports enterprise on Earth.
The league – tone-blind as well as tone-deaf – promised to appeal.
As it ended, the nation piled in to crow about something that really matters in these difficult times – the basic legal rights of rock-star athletes.
People die in U.S. jails for want of a speedy trial. But somehow, this seemed too important to wait. As America's best friend in the world, it's up to Canada to put a consoling hand on its shoulder and say, "You gotta get it together, man."
This was one of those rare instances where everyone loses equally, including all those who got conned into picking a side.
The details of the case against Brady are so various and inscrutable, they don't bear repeating. Bottom line – balls were underinflated so as to make them easier to handle; we don't know precisely who gave the order; and not one single affected person gives a damn. Ex-pros lined up after the game in question – a 45-7 postseason blowout – to say the practice was widespread.
In a reasonable world, the NFL acts the disappointed parent, does a pro forma investigation, gives New England a small fine, tightens the rules and moves on.
Instead, the league went full Inquisition on the Patriots. A friendly law firm was hired to do an NSA-level rip job on Brady. He was portrayed as the insidious head of history's most boring cabal.
Brady's missing cellphone – Destroyed? Upgraded? Captured by insurgents? – became to this generation what O.J.'s glove was to the previous one.
A small difference – O.J. was accused of murdering a couple of people via beheading; Brady was accused of being a spectacularly poor grammarian via text.
Did the Patriots underinflate the balls? Of course they did. Do you care? God, I hope not. If you do, you need to start volunteering. For perspective.
We all knew how this was going to end up. The NFL's mistake – one of many – was assuming the Tom Brady we know from the sidelines is Tom Brady in real life. On the field, he looks laid back to the point of narcolepsy. Off it, he's Clarence Darrow with better hair – fired with a profound sense of righteousness. Others would have taken the suspension, just to be rid of the hassle. He doesn't need the money. The Patriots can survive four games without him. But Brady wouldn't bend.
He fought this thing on principle, which is rarely a good reason to do anything if that's all you're basing it on.
Though the NFL built America's new church, Brady got the pulpit. He didn't have to say much. All he needed to do was look aggrieved, and let the Patriots speak for him. Splitting from the omerta of ownership, New England owner Robert Kraft went hard at the league.
A year ago, despite all the gleeful animus thrown his way, you'd have said Goodell was bulletproof. He is very good at the one part of his job that matters – making money. As just one example, when he took over the league a decade ago, the Dallas Cowboys were worth $1.2-billion (all figures U.S.). Today, they're valued at $3.2-billion. That's a ludicrous rate of growth, and it continues unabated.
But Goodell's confidence has mutated into arrogance. People – even very rich, powerful people – don't mind being pushed around. What they can't stand is other people knowing it.
Goodell no longer has the sense to appear deferential. He's adopted the tyrant's pose, screaming or torting down anyone who disagrees with him. It's only a matter of time before he names his horse a Senator.
We're still a ways from writing Goodell's professional obituary – that would look too much like panic – but this would probably be a good time to start making calls. Just to get a head start.
Brady did himself no favours, either. Whether or not you are in the right, no one wants to be sketched in a courtroom. That image lingers. Also, aside from playing football and marrying a super model, it may be the only interesting thing Brady's ever done. No one will forget it.
The Patriots reinforced their reputation as the cheatingest organization in the world because no matter how this turned out, we know they cheated. That's not at issue. The balls didn't deflate themselves through an act of divine meteorology. No court has exculpated them. Brady skips on a matter of procedure.
Even the notion of football fandom was lampooned in the course of this. After the verdict, billboards lit up around Boston reading, "Vindicated!" A national chain of doughnut shops promised judge Berman free coffee for life. There was nothing about this that seemed remotely self-aware. People acted as though this mattered.
As such, everyone – the NFL, the Patriots, Goodell, Brady and even American jurisprudence – come out of this looking a little more than vaguely ridiculous.
It's the sort of thing you imagine anthropologists working in a distant future – one without professional sports – pointing at and saying, "How crazy did it get? This crazy."
Cathal Kelly