The report implicated between 22 and 27 defensive players, defensive coordinator Gregg Williams, general manager Mickey Loomis and beloved coach Sean Payton — the man often credited with reinvigorating what was, and in many ways still is, America's most broken major city.
The Saints breathed life into New Orleans in Katrina's devastating aftermath, starting with the win heard 'round the world: a victory over division rival Atlanta Falcons on a blocked punt in the first game back in the Superdome. Five and a half years later, this beautiful synthesis of team and city has devolved into arguably the worst NFL scandal in recent memory.
"The investigation by the league's security department," ESPN's Adam Schefter reported, "determined that an improper ‘pay for performance program' included ‘bounty' payments to players for inflicting injuries on opposing players that would result in them being removed from a game." In other words, the Saints' defense has been running a ring of hit men since 2009.
Of all their games during that season, I recall most vividly the 2009 NFC Championship game that pitted the eventual−champion Saints against the Minnesota Vikings. It was the type of one−and−done ballgame typical of the NFC — lightning fast, hard−hitting and down to the wire. I also recall watching Brett Favre being tossed around like a ragdoll, utterly dumbfounded at the absence of flags.
Watching Favre receive a long overdue butt−kicking was great, but that game teetered far too precariously on the vague boundary between insanity and competitiveness. It wouldn't have been overstating things to claim that the Saints were out to get him, although sports conspiracy theories almost never gain traction.
These men are millionaires earning thousands — pocket change, really — for inflicting undue harm upon their opponents. That's what football is, though, right? I, for one, would agree. But it doesn't take an expert to identify the disparity between doing the job delineated in a contract and doing the one discussed clandestinely in the locker room.
No matter how many fines are doled out, NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell can't turn back the clock on football's most heinous incidents, like James Harrison unleashing on Mohammed Massaquoi and NdamukongSuh stomping on Evan Dietrich−Smith's arm.
The worst of it, however, is probably yet to come. That is not to suggest that mercenary−esque behavior is an epidemic, but it certainly wouldn't come as a surprise if more teams were outed. The NFL is now investigating the Washington Redskins, an investigation that will almost certainly yield similar results, because Williams was their defensive coordinator from 2004 to 2007.
It takes multiple cogs in an organization to sustain an illicit bounty system. Common sense, therefore, would tell us that there needs to be some semblance of accountability as well as an effective monitoring system, both of which are sorely lacking at present. But the issue of implementing each remains unsolved, and until Goodell and company get their stuff together, teams adept at concealing illegal activities will continue to do so.
The welfare of players, especially in light of the increasing prevalence of head trauma and premature death, is not something to be toyed with. As much as the NFL and team owners care about revenue, it is their moral obligation to look out for their employees.
If Southern Methodist University received the "death penalty" in 1987 for recruiting violations, why shouldn't a pro team that abets thuggish behavior suffer a equivalent punishment? Common sense, making its second guest appearance in this column, would say it absolutely should.
--
Sam Gold is a freshman who has not yet declared a major. He can be reached at Samuel_L.Gold@tufts.edu.
