The No Fun League Strikes Again

What is it with the suits in the National Football League’s front offices and the perpetual bug up their collective ass? Any and every time a player tries to liven up the game with an innocuous celebration, the Puritans in Armani make a point of treating the act with roughly the same amount of disdain as Agent Smith felt for Neo and his band of renegades in The Matrix. For years now, these hypocritical honchos (they will endlessly focus on star players—quarterbacks in particular—when promoting an upcoming game; but they turn around and chastise those who celebrate on the field for making themselves “bigger than the game”) have repeatedly reminded fans that the NFL is no place for revelry or enjoyment. It’s a business; an open-air office where they own the monopoly when it comes to advertising and sales. The league’s outdated standpoints on conduct and entertainment have slowly strangled the last drops of extraneous joy out of the game itself (and yet we criticize the players for being “all about the money”; what, I ask you, is left other than money, when the powers-that-be are furiously opposed to you enjoying the sport you grew up loving, and are lucky enough to play for a living?).

Case in point:

Like the other 21.9 million viewers watching the Dallas Cowboys face the Philadelphia Eagles on Sunday night, you probably missed it. But the brand name known for spiced rum achieved the rare feat of sneaking an advertising fastball by the NFL – in the middle of a nationally televised game, no less. During the third quarter of Dallas’ 20-16 win, Eagles tight end Brent Celek(notes) caught an 11-yard touchdown pass from Donovan McNabb(notes), then appeared to purposefully back up and align himself in front of television cameras. Putting his hands on his hips, Celek raised his right leg, mimicking a pose similar to the pirate on Captain Morgan’s label.

As far as anyone knows, it’s the first time we’ve seen that type of guerilla-style advertising campaign in an NFL end zone. And if the league has its way, it will be the last, too. The “Captain Morgan” was effectively banned this week after the league learned of a wider campaign meant to get players to repeatedly strike the pose during NFL games.

[the full article can be read here]

At first glance, you might say, “This is different—this is a company trying to promote its product on the field and that’s why it’s wrong.” But take a moment to examine the facts more closely: The money rewarded for each Captain pose would not have gone to the individuals themselves, but rather to a charity. Not only that, but a charity dedicated to helping retired players with post-football hardships. This comes at a time when the NFL is under heavy scrutiny for the lingering medical problems endured by players—including conditions as serious as brain damage—after they move on in life. By shutting down the promotion, the league has actually made two blunders:

(1.) They have further cemented themselves as wanting a field full of corporate robots instead of emotionally engaged athletes.
(2.) The NFL has taken money away from a foundation whose purpose is to aid the very corporate robots that the league has drawn criticism for endangering.

And the excuse offered by Greg Aiello (“The issue is that players are specifically prohibited under our policies from wearing, displaying, promoting or otherwise conveying their support of a commercially identified product during a game while they’re on the field”) is laughable, to say the least. The NFL has turned itself into one large marketing campaign these days—I dare you to watch a game without seeing the brand names of at least 10 different companies strategically placed on and around the players themselves, not to mention the litany of television and radio commercials that come at you during league-mandated “TV timeouts” and other breaks in the action. Yet Aiello expects us to swallow the assertion that Captain Morgan has somehow threatened the purity of sport that is the modern professional football game?

Don’t get it twisted. The real reason that the NFL didn’t like the promotion is quite simple: they weren’t in line to benefit from it in any way. No money would have poured into their already-overflowing coffers, and no publicity would be focused on them, only their lowly minions the players.

And that, in the NFL’s eyes, is truly no fun.