This is another entry in Civic Way’s journal on current issues, and their relevance to our democracy, governance and future. The author, Bob Melville, is the founder of Civic Way, a nonprofit dedicated to good government, and a management consultant with over 45 years of experience improving public agencies.
“Winning is not everything, it is the only thing.” – Vince Lombardi
Vince Lombardi is considered one of football’s greatest coaches, coaching the Green Bay Packers to five championships in seven years and winning the first two Super Bowls (his name is on the trophy). His commitment to excellence is legendary.
The Cleveland Browns—or at least their owners—are chasing Lombardi’s ghost. They recently traded a bevy of high draft picks to the Houston Texans for quarterback Deshaun Watson. Did the Browns mortgage their future? Probably. Did the Browns’ owners force this trade? No doubt.
Even worse, the Browns bestowed on Watson a five-year, $230 million, fully guaranteed deal. This contract, as one NFL executive claims, “reeks of desperation.” By shifting huge dollars from an annual salary to a signing bonus ($44.5 million), the contract will minimize the financial impact of Watson’s anticipated suspension.
That’s right. The NFL will likely suspend Watson for several games this season. After all, Watson is facing 22 civil lawsuits from women accusing him of sexual misconduct during massage sessions. [Watson won’t be facing criminal charges and 18 other female massage therapists defend his behavior.]
How did the Cleveland Browns, a once venerable NFL franchise, get so desperate? A powerhouse for nearly two decades after WWII (eight championships from 1946 to 1964). The team that gave us 22 Hall of Fame members. The City that integrated the NFL (in 1946, the Cleveland/Los Angeles Rams integrated the NFL and the Browns integrated the All-America Football Conference (AAFC).
Since their glory years, the Cleveland Browns have—to put it charitably—lost their footing. After being competitive during the late 1960s, they made losing a habit during the 1970s. During the 1980s, they improved, but endured crushing playoff losses—"Red Right 88" (1981), the “Drive” (1987) and the “Fumble” (1988). In 1996, a mere two years after a 11-5 record and a playoff victory, their owner moved the franchise to Baltimore.
In 1999, the NFL awarded Cleveland a new franchise with their old name and colors. What began with hope quickly gave way to futility. From 1999 through 2018, Browns fans braved 29 starting quarterbacks, 10 head coaches, a 29 percent win ratio and 15 last-place finishes.
In 2012, Jimmy Haslam III, the Tennessee service-station billionaire, acquired the Browns for $1 billion. After dodging a federal indictment, he began securing his reputation as one of the NFL’s worst micro-managers. Repeated meddling produced a carousel of flawed coaches, egotistical executives, forgettable has-beens and confounding draft busts. Garish new uniforms. Higher ticket prices. In 2017, they became the 2nd team in NFL history to lose every game.
So, after ten years of failing to turn around this once-proud franchise, Jimmy Haslam is desperate. He has apparently decided to win at all costs. To prove his prowess as an owner, he is willing to wager everything on one young man facing serious charges and a multi-game suspension. To win the Lombardi trophy, he seems prepared to risk the Browns’ legacy and future.
What, if anything, can or should fans do? We could withhold our support until new ownership arrives. We could push for public ownership of NFL teams. We could spend more time with our families. We could become better citizens. We could stop watching NFL games altogether. We could do nothing.
Jimmy Haslam, and the other NFL owners, aren’t worried. They know that the NFL and the franchises that comprise it will easily survive the alienation of a few thousand disgruntled fans. They know the gravy train won’t stop as long as they tantalize enough fans with blockbuster trades, splashy draft picks and intermittent playoff wins.
Perhaps we should think more about Vince Lombardi and chase the right ghost.
Yes, Vince Lombardi drove his players (and himself) to excellence, but he also demanded virtues like honesty, hard work, sacrifice and resilience. He insisted on decency, tolerance, mutual respect and teamwork. He promoted diversity long before it became a cause célèbre.
Lombardi came to appreciate that winning isn’t the only thing. In sports, how we win and lose matters. Sure, it’s more fun to win than lose—at least, in the short-term. But, in the long-term, the wins and losses fade from memory and more important values—like honesty, respect and grace—endure.
Similarly, in politics, winning an election can be important in the short-term, especially if that victory brings changes that materially improve our lives. But, winning elections has become too vital—and the tactics too desperate. Serious debate has been shunted aside by dark money, moronic ads, vacuous slogans and shameless demagoguery.
We all want to win, in sports, politics and other walks of life. Winning affords us a momentary high. It can even free us from serious thinking about long-term problems. Worse, the single-minded pursuit of winning can distract us from the values we need to ensure our future.
Winning is not everything or the only thing. That distinction belongs to the future.