The NFL has faced criticism for its handling of domestic violence cases among players. It has only recently begun to take such cases seriously, disciplining players lightly in the past. The Ray Rice case in particular sparked public outrage over the NFL's two-game suspension of Rice before video showed him punching his then-fiancee. As a result, the NFL's female fan base and sponsors have questioned whether the league truly cares about women and domestic violence issues. For the NFL to regain public trust, it needs to demonstrate through stricter policies and penalties that it will no longer tolerate domestic abuse among players.

1. Will the NFL’s domestic violence blunders hurt Pink October?
The NFL shield has tackled numerous threats to its continued domination of broadcast
sports over the past year. Among them was the 4,500 player­strong concussion lawsuit
brought against the NFL in 2013, which analysts speculated could cost the league millions
of dollars. This assessment started to come true over the past 12 months, as the league’s
decision to settle with plaintiffs and its agreement to never cap payments to future NFL
concussion victims has amounted to an $870 million­plus slew of payouts so far.
But the NFL’s most pressing concern this year—the one making the biggest, worst
headlines for the league—has been the overwhelming influx of reports and allegations of
domestic violence and other abuse perpetrated by NFL players and staff. This blowup has
overshadowed all other concerns now that the 2014 season is in full swing (including the
remarkable revelation that 30 percent of players will suffer game­related neurological
concerns during their lifetime, as documented by recent court assessments).
I have written articles about player conduct as well as the thug treatment that many African
American athletes face, but the recent events surrounding NFL superstars’ domestic
violence have shed light on an issue that’s just as dire as classism, racism or punishment
for possession of marijuana. As a proud former NFL player, I never imagined violence
against women and children would become such a critical issue when we talk about NFL
player policies. Women make up 40 percent of the total NFL fan base according to
sources like ESPN, and most NFL fans look forward to October when our Sunday
gladiators wear pink gloves, shoes and other accessories to raise awareness of breast
cancer. The league is clearly interested in bolstering female viewership, with its $4.5 million
donations to cancer research. But it made a major blunder here, and the million­dollar
question has become how to motivate the NFL to deal with domestic abusers in the long
run.
The NFL has substance abuse policies, enforceable team rules, strict attendance policies,
media conduct policies and a range of other rules covering minor issues, but the league
can’t truly claim to be concerned about its female fans when it’s taken this long to talk about
domestic violence rules that should be common sense. If you are an executive at a major
company and you’re caught on tape abusing women, you’re out of a job like Gurbaksh
Chahal of RadiumOne, but the NFL has played things differently. A grand jury indicted Ray
Rice in March for third­degree aggravated assault, and my first reaction to the incident was
"How could they not cut him?" even as Ravens owner Steve Bisciotti maintained that Rice
had a “future with the team despite his arrest.” (In Rice’s defense, it was also wrong for the
league to punish him twice, given that Commissioner Goodell already gave him a two

2. game suspension. Even that demonstrates a lack of sensitivity toward issues of domestic
violence.)
The fact of the matter is, the NFL and Commissioner Goodell have never taken time to
severely discipline athletes engaging in domestic violence. North Carolina convicted the
Panthers’ defensive end Greg Hardy of assault and communicating threats, but he played
during week one and the Panthers only dropped him from the active roster after the Rice
scandal broke (though he still earns his $13.1 million salary each week). Chicago Bears’
Brandon Marshall’s repeated arrests for domestic violence prompted a one game
suspension and fines. Leroy Hill of the Seattle Seahawks equal suspensions and penalties
from drug use as he did for his fourth­degree domestic assault arrest. The sad reality is
that the NFL just hasn’t taken violence in its ranks seriously. The league more consistently
disciplines players for substance abuse (year­long suspensions for marijuana use!) than it
does for harm they inflict on others. A record like this means that the NFL cares more about
petty misdemeanors than serious crimes like domestic violence.
Hopefully the recent sponsor terminations, like Nike’s desertion of Ray Rice, Radisson
Hotels’ dropping of the Vikings and Target’s decision to pull those players’ merchandise,
will be a wake­up call. The NFL earned more than $9 billion last year, $1 billion of which
came from sponsor revenue. True, the NFL suffers a moral problem as it ignores domestic
abusers, but it responds better to threats to its cash flow than it does public outcry alone.
As with any other business, we know that this major institution will only dedicate itself to a
worthy cause if it can save itself at the same time.
This issue really has made me question the shield that I so proudly wore since I was
fortunate enough to put on an NFL helmet in 2002. The league bills itself as a voice for
women, raising breast cancer awareness during its Pink campaigns each fall, but these
efforts amount to little more than marketing tricks as the NFL reacts time and time again to
violence against women with ignorance and apathy. American women are far more likely to
suffer domestic abuse than breast cancer, but the NFL missteps go on. So where are the
league’s real priorities—and will it continue to receive growing support this October?
One thing’s for certain: Roger Goodell deserves the heat he’s gotten for his lying and
dragging his feet. He’s given no signs that he’ll resign, even though it’s taken this long for
the NFL to make real change and he’s at the heart of the problem. Until he and the league
shape up, I’ve got to agree with what my good friend Sidney Rice tweeted after watching
yet another embarrassing NFL press conference on domestic violence: “Boo this man.”