This story appears in ESPN The Magazine's May 29 issue. Subscribe today!
An enduring image of the NFL draft should make the players' association cringe. A young man, about to realize his dream of playing professional football, walks to the lectern and -- wait for it -- hugs NFL commissioner Roger Goodell, a man who: (A) will earn more money than virtually every draftee without playing a down; (B) works for NFL owners for the specific purpose of crushing the union; and (C) has so much power that when he imposes discipline on players, their appeal process goes through, yes, Roger Goodell.
Defensive tackle Danny Shelton didn't just hug Goodell after being drafted by Cleveland in 2015, he lifted the commissioner off his feet with a bear hug. Carson Wentz gave Goodell what has become a ritualistic hug in last year's draft, as did Ezekiel Elliott, who after hugging it out with Goodell spent his rookie season and the entire offseason under investigation by the commissioner's office for domestic violence. But behind the overly cozy stage optics lies a complicated set of realities. Goodell has broad power over discipline. Though the NFLPA has secured increased guaranteed money for its players, they have routinely received less of it than their NBA and MLB counterparts. In April, the union filed a grievance against the NFL and its teams for violating collective bargaining guidelines on how teams distribute painkillers to players. All this, yet instead of offering a respectful handshake and sending the message that they are a formidable half of a relationship that requires balance, players are offering their hugs.
Across sports, the power gap has always been heavily tilted toward ownership. The MLBPA ratified a new deal in December, agreeing in spirit to payroll taxes that closely resemble a salary cap, historically the issue that would precipitate a strike. Players and agents aren't quite sure that the greatest act of distrust between the players and owners -- collusion -- isn't happening again, and baseball has a mother lode of cash -- MLB Advanced Media, with revenues estimated at more than $1 billion -- of which the players don't get a dime. Hockey players just lost their last battle, the league no longer agreeing to allow players to compete for their countries in the Olympics as they'd been doing for 20 years. And the NBA, with its draft and hugs for Adam Silver looming on June 22, has seen its players master the language of partnership. (LeBron James and NBPA president Chris Paul refer to the NBA as "our league.") But they aren't partners; one side has a full equity stake in the game, and the other is paid to play it.
In this environment, a hug is not just a hug; it's one way the players are undermining their own positions. Joe Thomas, the loyal lifer Browns left tackle, is another example. In a tweet seemingly aimed at explaining the shutting out of Colin Kaepernick -- "Teams don't currently view him as a starting QB. NFL teams accept ZERO distractions from their backup QBs." -- he, directly or not, gave ammunition to owners by putting a player face to management's anti-union sentiment that is keeping a qualified football player unemployed. Maybe it was inadvertent, or maybe Thomas is auditioning for a GM job when his career ends.
Optics are important. They can also make for unintended consequences, like when the players earn so much money it potentially diminishes their union's greatest weapon: the strike. Athletes were once seen as being on the moral, commonsense side of any labor disagreement, and when they initiated a work stoppage, some of the public supported it. Today, the public mostly wants its well-paid superstars to be grateful for their good fortune. Now the money is so great, players seem to believe the public would have zero tolerance for a players' strike, not with LeBron James earning $31 million or Clayton Kershaw earning $35.6 million. No pro union has walked since the 1994-95 MLB players' strike, while ownership has initiated several lockouts since then: the NHL in 1994-95 and the entire season in 2004-05, the NBA in 1998-99 and 2011, the NFL in 2011 (though no games were lost) and even one for the NFL referees in 2012.
So as the money rolls in, the culture quietly and rapidly devours the players along the other fault lines of guaranteed money, long-term health and the complete fungibility of players not named LeBron or Tom Brady. If the players want to reclaim more than just money at the bargaining table, these world-class competitors need to stop hugging their commissioners and remember that even after the clock hits zero they're still in a fight.