On Tuesday evening, the NFL Commissioner's Office announced that the NFL will be upholding the four-game suspensions that it had earlier handed down to Minnesota Vikings' defensive tackles Pat and Kevin Williams for use of a diuretic containing a substance banned by the NFL. The suspensions, set to begin with Sunday's game against the hapless Detroit Lions, would leave the Vikings thin at a position otherwise considered one of the team's strengths.
Already, Kevin Williams' agent has announced that Kevin will be filing an appeal in U.S. District Court. Presumably, Pat Williams will file an appeal as well.
Neither the grounds nor the jurisdiction of an outside court to hear an appeal are clear at this point. Because both Vikings' players were suspended under the NFL's collective bargaining agreement with the NFL Players' Union, it is arguable that the District Court does not have jurisdiction over the matter and that, should the players have a dispute with the decision, they would have only the NFL to which they could appeal. Given that the players already have exhausted their appeals under the collective bargaining agreement, however, they might well be stuck with the league's determination and be forced to sit out four games.
Should the players gain a hearing in federal court, they likely will be forced to argue against two separate charges--only one of which resulted in their initial penalty, that of using a banned substance. The second charge is that both players used a diuretic in direct contradiction of the collective bargaining agreement which disallows use of a diuretic for the purpose of meeting weight-based incentives.
Because the NFL's policy is one of strict liability, whether the players intended to use banned substances is not germane; all that matters is whether the players used banned substances. The case, thus, will hinge on whether the players used "banned substances," if it any longer hinges on anything at all.
The best argument that the players appear to have at their avail--and one that they presumably already have made at league offices--is that they received information on the specific diuretic that they were taking that contradicts the information that the NFL is now claiming to have sent to the NFLPA and each team in December of 2006. The players ought also to argue that they were not taking diuretics to meet weight-based incentives in their contracts but for some other reason, such as to regulate their weight on a year-round basis to promote overall good health--though it's difficult to imagine that any rational arbiter would conclude that the diuretics were used for any other reason than to meet weight-based incentives in the players' contracts.
The league appears to have a solid case against the Vikings' defensive tackles. The Williamses do not deny taking the diuretic; the league has a strict liability policy; and the Williams' best argument appears to be lack of a proper warning--an argument that flies in the face of strict liability.
Only one door appears to be open to the players for appeal. That door is the one opened by the league by its somewhat curious statement regarding its own policy.
In a press release, the league dismissed the Williams' chief point of appeal--that they did not receive adequate notice of the banned substance--on the ground of strict liability. The league went on to say, however, that, although neither the league nor the NFLPA ever even contemplated that it would be the duty of the league to tell players what products they could not use, leaving that for the players to determine based on the product's ingredients and the list of banned products kept and distributed to the players by the league, the league, nevertheless, sent out two memos regarding products produced and sold by the same company that made the Starcaps diuretic that the Williamses reportedly used.
While it is admirable for the NFL to go above and beyond its commitment under the collective bargaining agreement to keep players informed on products that run afoul of the league's banned substances list, it is also rather foolish from a legal perspective. For, by sending this information, the league arguably has assumed a duty to send a complete and accurate list. And if the Starcaps brand that the Williamses used was not strictly prohibited, the Williamses at least have an opening to argue that it ought to have been to justify the punishment that the league rendered for their use of the product.
The Williams' best argument is, thus, that the league assumed a duty that it failed to meet when it failed to notify them about a substance that the league knew or had reason to know ran afoul of the league's banned substances list.
The league has already established a counter to this charge by suggesting unclean hands on the part of the Williamses for using a diuretic to meet weight-based contract incentives.
It is likely that only a highly sympathetic judge would grant review of the case as the matter involved appears to fall clearly and fully within the purview of the NFL. Even if the court agrees to hear the case, however, the best that the Williamses likely can hope for is a slow process, rather than the expedited process that the NFL is likely to request if it fails to have the case dismissed. And that might mean that the two tackles are unavailable if and when the Vikings make the playoffs rather than in the period in which the Vikings need them to make the playoffs.
In short, Vikings' fans probably ought to warm to the prospect of trying to make the playoffs without the services of either Pat or Kevin Williams. And warm to the notion that the suspensions could buy head coach Brad Childress another year should the team fail to make the playoffs this season.
Up Next: Misdirection.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Monday, December 01, 2008
Contrary to Unpopular Wisdom
Popular belief has it that Adrian Peterson is the best running back in the NFL and ought to be given every opportunity to show it. On Sunday night, Minnesota Vikings' head coach Brad Childress spent the better part of the first half against the equally addled Chicago Bears, attempting to disprove popular wisdom. Fortunately for the Vikings and their fans, while Bears' head coach Lovie Smith opted for the Childress playbook, Childress broke ranks.
After spending one full quarter running the conventional Childress road-to-nowhere offense, the Vikings caught a break early in the second quarter on Sunday when Adrian Peterson ripped off a 59-yard-run to the Bears' 6-yard-line. The Vikings then called a Peterson run to the Vikings' weak side for one yard and followed with two poorly devised and even more poorly executed jump-ball passes to the left corner of the end zone, the first of which should have been and nearly was intercepted.
The obvious playcall so close to the Bears' endzone was to stack the left side of the line with two tight ends and to give Peterson the ball. Predictably, however, the obvious playcall was not even a possibility on third down as the Vikings removed Peterson--the one guy for whom the Bears had no answer. The equally predictable result was a fourth-down field-goal attempt that the Vikings converted to pull within four.
Without belaboring the point, it is evident that Childress has become fixated with proving to anyone watching and/or listening that he has no need for conventional wisdom or even subtle derivations there of. Rather than the no-brainer, what the Childress playbook generally calls for is a common-sense call thrice removed. On this set of downs, that meant using option four when the Bears had failed to show that they could shut down option one.
Not to be outdone--in fact, as an apparent point of one-upmanship pride--Lovie Smith followed Childress' playcalling with some equally inept playcalling of his own.
After rookie running back Matt Forte scorched the Vikings for a 26-yard run around the left end, and Ray Edwards and Benny Sapp chipped in drive-saving penalties, the Bears found themselves at the Vikings' one-yard-line.
The natural call would have been Forte around the left or right end or a play-action pass--two plays that the Vikings had shown an inability to defend. Smith called the proper play on first down, but went to the wrong side and too deep, calling a pass to tight end Greg Olsen in the right corner of the endzone.
The first down miss apparently emboldened Smith to resort to the least viable alternatives. Instead of using a variation of what should have been a successful play, Smith opted to run up the gut against Minnesota. And he did so not once, not twice, but three times, the second play during which Smith inserted previously unused, practice squad fullback Jason Davis for the fullback's only carry of the game and season.
Naturally, the Vikings' stone-walled the Bears, turning Lovie's team over on downs at the one. The Bears never recovered and Lovie was left to explain to an incredulous Chicago media contingent why running three straight times at Pat and Kevin Williams seemed like the best option from the one. In classic Childress fashion, Lovie replied that the Bears "thought they saw something that they could exploit." In common parlance, that translates to "I thought I was smarter than everyone else."
While Lovie and the Bears continued their head-scratching play--typified by their failure to play a safety deep on Bernard Berrian's side when Childress' playbook clearly calls for one of his team's two deep passes of the game to be thrown from the Vikings' one-yard-line, as it did on the very next play--Childress, after possibly taking a few well-placed knocks to the head during halftime, either conceded the long-standing error of his ways or made one last ditch effort to show why his way is better.
Following a Chester Taylor rush for no gain from the Bears' one-yard-line, Childress inserted Peterson into the game calling on 28 to run up the gut. The logic, it appeared, was to prove to all that Peterson simply cannot get it done in goal-line situations. Never mind what wisdom suggested, Childress would show the World that he was right. Only he was wrong and the Vikings benefited courtesy an AP waltz into the endzone.
The victory over the Bears on Sunday was important, even critical, for the Vikings who, with a loss, effectively would have stood two games behind the Bears in the standings with but a slim chance of making the playoffs. But, perhaps equally as important to the team as the victory is the fact that Peterson walked into the endzone from the one-yard-line. For that play showed what all but Childress already knew--that Peterson is a goal line back.
If only Peterson had caught a pass out of the slot in a third down situation.
Up Next: Misdirection.
After spending one full quarter running the conventional Childress road-to-nowhere offense, the Vikings caught a break early in the second quarter on Sunday when Adrian Peterson ripped off a 59-yard-run to the Bears' 6-yard-line. The Vikings then called a Peterson run to the Vikings' weak side for one yard and followed with two poorly devised and even more poorly executed jump-ball passes to the left corner of the end zone, the first of which should have been and nearly was intercepted.
The obvious playcall so close to the Bears' endzone was to stack the left side of the line with two tight ends and to give Peterson the ball. Predictably, however, the obvious playcall was not even a possibility on third down as the Vikings removed Peterson--the one guy for whom the Bears had no answer. The equally predictable result was a fourth-down field-goal attempt that the Vikings converted to pull within four.
Without belaboring the point, it is evident that Childress has become fixated with proving to anyone watching and/or listening that he has no need for conventional wisdom or even subtle derivations there of. Rather than the no-brainer, what the Childress playbook generally calls for is a common-sense call thrice removed. On this set of downs, that meant using option four when the Bears had failed to show that they could shut down option one.
Not to be outdone--in fact, as an apparent point of one-upmanship pride--Lovie Smith followed Childress' playcalling with some equally inept playcalling of his own.
After rookie running back Matt Forte scorched the Vikings for a 26-yard run around the left end, and Ray Edwards and Benny Sapp chipped in drive-saving penalties, the Bears found themselves at the Vikings' one-yard-line.
The natural call would have been Forte around the left or right end or a play-action pass--two plays that the Vikings had shown an inability to defend. Smith called the proper play on first down, but went to the wrong side and too deep, calling a pass to tight end Greg Olsen in the right corner of the endzone.
The first down miss apparently emboldened Smith to resort to the least viable alternatives. Instead of using a variation of what should have been a successful play, Smith opted to run up the gut against Minnesota. And he did so not once, not twice, but three times, the second play during which Smith inserted previously unused, practice squad fullback Jason Davis for the fullback's only carry of the game and season.
Naturally, the Vikings' stone-walled the Bears, turning Lovie's team over on downs at the one. The Bears never recovered and Lovie was left to explain to an incredulous Chicago media contingent why running three straight times at Pat and Kevin Williams seemed like the best option from the one. In classic Childress fashion, Lovie replied that the Bears "thought they saw something that they could exploit." In common parlance, that translates to "I thought I was smarter than everyone else."
While Lovie and the Bears continued their head-scratching play--typified by their failure to play a safety deep on Bernard Berrian's side when Childress' playbook clearly calls for one of his team's two deep passes of the game to be thrown from the Vikings' one-yard-line, as it did on the very next play--Childress, after possibly taking a few well-placed knocks to the head during halftime, either conceded the long-standing error of his ways or made one last ditch effort to show why his way is better.
Following a Chester Taylor rush for no gain from the Bears' one-yard-line, Childress inserted Peterson into the game calling on 28 to run up the gut. The logic, it appeared, was to prove to all that Peterson simply cannot get it done in goal-line situations. Never mind what wisdom suggested, Childress would show the World that he was right. Only he was wrong and the Vikings benefited courtesy an AP waltz into the endzone.
The victory over the Bears on Sunday was important, even critical, for the Vikings who, with a loss, effectively would have stood two games behind the Bears in the standings with but a slim chance of making the playoffs. But, perhaps equally as important to the team as the victory is the fact that Peterson walked into the endzone from the one-yard-line. For that play showed what all but Childress already knew--that Peterson is a goal line back.
If only Peterson had caught a pass out of the slot in a third down situation.
Up Next: Misdirection.
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