THE week before last, Aaron Rodgers signed a new contract that broke the record for the highest guaranteed salary in American football history.
Rodgers’s deal to remain quarterback for the Green Bay Packers secured him more than US$150 million over the next three seasons. A few days later, that record was blown out of the water. That bit was no surprise. The nature of sport contracts are that they just go up and up and when all things are even roughly equal, whoever is next in line can expect to be top of the tree.
The surprise was who was now looking down at Rodgers and the rest.
The Houston Texans traded another quarterback, Deshaun Watson, to the Cleveland Browns, and when he got there the Browns handed him US$230m over the next five years. Guaranteed.
From a purely sporting perspective it makes sense – if those sorts of numbers can ever make sense. Watson is just 26 years old, nearly 12 years younger than Rodgers and, like his Green Bay counterpart, in the top tier of NFL quarterbacks.
But he didn’t play in the season just past because he was facing allegations from more than 20 different women, most of whom work as massage therapists, of inappropriate sexual behaviour and, in some cases, sexual assault.
Just over a week after it was decided Watson wouldn’t face criminal prosecution on 10 counts that had been brought against him, the Browns decided to make him their quarterback and give him all that money.
Watson has continually denied the allegations and will presumably get a chance to do so in civil court in the US, where 22 lawsuits have been filed against him. But the court of public opinion is where his new team also has to operate, and the Browns’ decision to not only bring in Watson in the first place but break contract records in doing it is another example of the moral maze a sports fan can find themselves in, even if all they want to do is support their team.
Unscientific polling – ie Twitter and the like – has revealed a pretty even split among Cleveland fans over Watson. Before his move to the Browns was confirmed and it looked like he would be heading to the Atlanta Falcons, that fanbase appeared similarly conflicted, with the vocal minority at the extremes – as always – either declaring their intention to proudly buy shirts with his name on them or burning jerseys they already had.
Fans of other teams of course piled onto the Browns, just as fans of other teams in the Premier League have piled on to Chelsea for being owned by Roman Abramovich. Or Newcastle United for being effectively owned by Saudi Arabia. But what if it happened to your team? What if your pride and joy was bought by a dubious oligarch or a state with a shady reputation? What if your club signed someone you deemed beyond the pale, or plastered the name of a company known for questionable practices across their shirt?
At what stage would you say ‘that’s it, I’m done’? And how much can a ‘normal’ supporter actually do? They are questions that anyone with more than a passing interest in professional sport has to consider.
When it comes down to it, it’s the most personal of choices, because it has to be. Taking the lead from governing bodies or a government will inevitably have you following a hypocrite.
While Chelsea supporters’ whataboutery concerning Newcastle’s ownership shouldn’t detract from the fact Abramovich is deeply enmeshed with Vladimir Putin and the Russian regime, it clearly has merit.
Saudi Arabia carried out death sentences on 81 men in a mass execution the day before some Newcastle fans proudly waved flags of the kingdom at their match against Chelsea. Continuing Saudi-led airstrikes have killed thousands of civilians in Yemen.
Some Chelsea supporters chanted Abramovich’s name at that match, which brought a rebuke from Downing Street, but his name was chanted at Stamford Bridge long before the (most recent) invasion of Ukraine, when Putin’s forces were, according to Amnesty International, committing war crimes in Georgia and Syria.
It’s not just individual teams. The latest race in the Formula One season took place in Saudi Arabia at the weekend, and for all the reports of drivers being “unsure” about whether or not they should be there, they were. And there’s nothing to say they won’t be back next year. And the previous week they were in Bahrain, complete with it’s “dismal” human rights record, according to Human Rights Watch. But the Russian Grand Prix was cancelled.
How uncomfortable should a Formula One fan feel sitting down to watch a race on a Sunday afternoon? Or a golf fan watching an event on what used to be called the European Tour – now the DP World Tour after being sponsored by the parent company of P&O, which so callously sacked 800 staff without notice a fortnight ago. And what about the upcoming World Cup in Qatar, where thousands of migrant workers have died building stadiums and, like its aforementioned Arab neighbours, as well as the UAE which effectively owns Manchester City, where human rights are consistently violated.
And it doesn’t need to be anything as serious as people losing their livelihoods or their lives, or aggressive war or sexual assault.
When European soccer clubs tried to break away to form a Super League with the sole purpose of making already very rich people even richer, the fans of those clubs made their voices heard to stop it, but they still had to reckon with the fact their clubs thought it would be a good idea.
For supporters who can rightly consider their ownership preferable to that of the likes of Newcastle, Chelsea, Manchester City or the Qatari-owned PSG, it was still a reminder that there are no ivory towers in professional sport. And as much as fans of other clubs may have screamed about greed, do they really think their beloved wouldn’t have been first in line to join a Super League if they were asked?
This Super League response was a rarity – which is perhaps why it surprised the Premier League owners as much as it did. If it comes down to individuals supporters to do something, how much can actually be done? A season ticket can be handed back, a shirt can be burned, but that’s really about it.
The reality is that even though it may stick in their throat a bit, most will probably keep cheering.
