Courtside
By Anthony L. Cuaycong
Antonio Brown didn’t do himself any favors when he began Sunday with a series of tweets against notable National Football League personalities. Evidently still smarting from his release by the Patriots in the wake of news he sent a woman he had allegedly propositioned “intimidating” text messages, he vented on social media and directed his ire at the league and team owners in regard to existing policy on the voiding of guaranteed money. Alluding to a double standard on the enforcement of rules, he specifically mentioned Patriots honcho Robert Kraft and Steelers quarterback Ben Roethlisberger’s brushes with notoriety and the resulting penalties, or lack thereof, they incurred.
Brown was, needless to say, incensed because supposedly secure portions of his salary were withheld by both the Raiders and Patriots after they severed ties with him. The latter will likely be required to defend their position in a grievance slated to be filed by the NFL Players Association — obliged to defend him in order to protect the rights of its members — on his behalf. At stake in their case is the payment of close to $10 million, which they deem invalidated given his off-field transgressions. Apart from uniform provisions guarding against the failure to disclose material information, they’re keen on enforcing contract language pertaining to the tarnishing of the reputation of the franchise and its figures, Kraft included.
Which, in a nutshell, is why Brown saw fit to delete the social media postings once he calmed down, or at least summoned enough sense to offset his anger. He was also probably advised to do so in light of prospective arbitration proceedings. Unfortunately, the damage had already been done. Once it’s out there, it out there; there are myriad ways for quarters, some of whom may actually have an investment on the outcome of the legal battle, to preserve contributions to the Web by those on either side.
To be sure, no one comes out of the Saga unscathed. Not Brown, who was arguably the best wide receiver in the pro ranks before he imploded and went through a summer of heck. Not the Patriots, who could have been more circumspect and vetted him first; instead, they giddily signed him and thought to exploit him until the very last minute. Not the league, who could have acted with decisiveness, particularly after a civil lawsuit accusing him of rape was filed. And not the fans, who dared pillory Sports Illustrated’s Robert Klemko for unearthing details of his missteps.
Life goes on, of course, and, soon enough, the NFL and the Patriots will move past the whole affair — perhaps with record revenues and yet another trophy, respectively. Even Brown figures to dust off the debris; already, he’s in the process of repairing his image, enrolling in online religion, management, sociology, and English classes at Central Michigan. Meanwhile, his alleged victims, armed with far less resources to cope, continue to bear the trauma of having crossed paths with him.
Anthony L. Cuaycong has been writing Courtside since BusinessWorld introduced a Sports section in 1994. He is a consultant on strategic planning, operations and Human Resources management, corporate communications, and business development.