Over the course of the last 56 years, only three commissioners have reigned over the National Football League. Pete Rozelle ruled well before and well after the NFL and AFL merged in 1970, serving 29 years in that office. His successor, Paul Tagliabue, spent 17 years as commish. And this summer, modern-day commissioner No. 3, Roger Goodell, is celebrating a decade as the head honcho.
That's right—it was on Aug. 8, 2006, when Goodell, then the league's chief operating officer, was elected commissioner by way of a 23-8 ownership vote (with Al Davis of the Raiders abstaining) at a suburban Chicago hotel.
Despite facing a wide variety of challenges in realms such as player behavior, discipline, player safety and collective bargaining, Goodell, 57, has helped the NFL become more lucrative than ever. The league's 32 owners are his bosses, and he serves them well, which is why he earned an average of more than $20 million per year during his first nine years as commissioner, per ESPN.com's Darren Rovell.
And yet those challenges have worked to severely damage Goodell's standing with those who actually play the game he oversees.
A 2013 USA Today poll of 300 players found that 61 percent disapproved of the job Goodell had done, and that came before Goodell was heavily criticized for his approach to player discipline in light of high-profile domestic violence incidents involving stars Greg Hardy and Ray Rice, among others.
It also came before Goodell became embroiled in his third "gate."
Watergate brought down Richard Nixon, but Roger Goodell has survived Spygate (2007-2008), Bountygate (2009-2012) and Deflategate (2015-present).
All of that controversy, however, has clearly weakened his reputation in the eyes of the players, over 200 of whom Bleacher Report reached out to this summer in hopes of discussing Goodell. That wide net was cast deliberately, because most players aren't interested in essentially talking football politics.
Unsurprisingly, the majority of the current and former players B/R contacted politely declined, either directly or through representatives. In doing so, dozens virtually cited a phrase taught to all of us in kindergarten: If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.
Ultimately, 10 NFLers did open up about the commish. And believe it or not, some had nice things to say. Others did not.
We gave Flozell Adams, Corey Graham, Jabari Greer, Clark Haggans, Adam Hayward, Chris Kluwe, Paris Lenon, Gerald McCoy, Sage Rosenfels and Jake Scott a blank canvas. This is the picture they painted.
The Fall Guy
Sometimes you have to remind yourself that Goodell represents the league's 32 teams, not its players. When you look at it that way, it's easier to understand why so many owners continue to save face while Goodell comes under fire.
"I think he has done a fantastic job at what his actual job is, which is to take attention away from the owners," said Kluwe, the outspoken former punter who played for the Seahawks, Vikings and Raiders. "Goodell doesn't really make decisions by himself, but he's sort of the front man for the 32 owners."
Scott, who served as an NFL Players Association player representative for the Tennessee Titans before, during and after the 2011 lockout, got the same impression during heated labor negotiations.
"Roger's job is to be the face of the league and kind of draw all of the attention—whether it's good or bad—away from the owners," said Scott, who enjoyed a nine-year NFL career as a guard in Indianapolis, Tennessee, Philadelphia and Detroit. "He's the one whose face is on the TV all the time."
The problem, it appears, is that Goodell does continue to possess absolute power in some areas. And in those cases—typically when it comes to player discipline—there's a sense among some players that he has abused that power by failing to abide by what should be unambiguous conduct policies.
"The commissioner should just execute," said Haggans, a former linebacker who was suspended by Goodell after a DUI in 2012. "That's all he needs to do. 'It's not on me. They made the laws; I'm just reporting the news.' Stone-cold laws and the commissioner is just the messenger."
The NFL's key policies have recently become much more explicit than they used to be, but the rules and penalties haven't always been straightforward, which is why we can't simply defend Goodell by telling his critics not to shoot the messenger.
Goodell the Disciplinarian
It appears there's a consensus among current and former NFLers that Goodell plays the role of judge, jury and executioner while lacking consistency with his punishments, mainly because he has so much freedom within the disciplinary process.
As one of his first major acts as commissioner, Goodell—who quickly established himself as a commish who'd be especially tough on crime—introduced a new personal conduct policy, which gave him free reign to punish players for off-field indiscretions in an attempt to protect the league's image. The problem in the eyes of many is that Goodell hasn't been particularly consistent or fair when handing down sentences.
"The initial transition from Tagliabue to Goodell wasn't an issue, but things really changed when he introduced the new conduct policy," said Lenon, a former linebacker who started 128 games over 12 NFL seasons. "There's definitely been an issue with consistency. And I think that's a pretty unanimous feeling."
What a lot of folks might not realize is Goodell and the league did establish a more concrete standard for player discipline a couple of years ago, but that was only introduced as a reaction to the commissioner's biggest blunder.
Critics of the initial Goodell policy scoffed the loudest in 2014, when Goodell suspended running back Ray Rice for only two games after Rice was charged with assaulting his wife, then-fiancee, Janay Palmer, despite the fact surveillance footage showed the veteran back dragging an unconscious Palmer out of an elevator in an Atlantic City casino.
The punishment seemed insufficient, especially when compared to the season-long suspension Cleveland Browns wide receiver Josh Gordon had received that same offseason for repeatedly testing positive for marijuana, or the five-game suspension handed to rookie Terrelle Pryor for signing autographs for compensation while in college. A policy Goodell introduced in order to protect the league's image backfired, instead giving onlookers the impression that the NFL was more concerned about pot smoke and performance-enhancing drugs than domestic abuse.
When public pressure reached a boiling point that summer, Goodell admitted he "didn't get it right" and increased Rice's suspension to six games under a completely revamped policy on domestic violence. And when a videotape emerged a couple of weeks later showing Rice striking Palmer in the elevator, Goodell insisted nobody at the league had seen said footage but still announced that Rice would be suspended indefinitely.
Rice and the NFLPA appealed, arguing he'd been subjected to double jeopardy. Later that fall, a neutral arbitrator overturned the indefinite suspension.
"He fumbled on that one," Greer said. "He did not carry justice through."
What makes the Rice episode so frustrating and so damning for Goodell is that there are so many layers, all of which represent various missteps. The initial decision seemed ridiculous, the adjustment was probably out of line and the league's claim that it never had access to the video of the assault remains dubious.
"It never made sense to me," said Rosenfels, who felt Goodell should have used common sense based on the fact there was footage of Rice dragging Palmer out of the elevator, as well as the reality that Rice reportedly acknowledged his mistake during his suspension hearing with the commissioner, according to ESPN.com's Don Van Natta Jr. "But you've got a high-profile player who just won the Super Bowl."
"Either you don't know about it, or you don't care to know about it," the former journeyman backup quarterback added, referring to the tape. "Either way, we've got a problem."
And the Rice case wasn't just an isolated lapse in competence. After conducting her own study that same year, FiveThirtyEight's Allison McCann concluded that "the NFL's punishment of personal conduct violations has been inconsistent and on average less harsh than its punishment of drug offenses."
The problem with the 2007 personal conduct policy was that it gave Goodell too much rope. While the policies pertaining to substance abuse and performance-enhancing drugs spelled out clear punishment guidelines, the conduct policy allowed Goodell the ability to make things up as he went along—at least until the new policy, which calls for a six-game ban for initial violations involving domestic violence or sexual assault, was introduced after the Rice scandal.
But the league's collectively bargained policies are still far from perfect, and they still give Goodell license to go rogue. Players can and have been suspended without being convicted of crimes, and there continues to be no specific guidelines for infractions that don't pertain specifically to assault and domestic violence.
"It should be black and white. You do this, this is what you get. Fines, suspensions, everything. No gray area," Haggans said. "I've been suspended. I said, I'll take it. And after that I was cool. It was over. But they look at players' names, how popular they are, how much money they make."
What's more, to many players, the lengthy battle over Brady's four-game Deflategate suspension has felt a little too personal.
"Nobody cares about that anymore," said Adams, a former Pro Bowl offensive lineman who spent 13 seasons with the Cowboys and Steelers. "It's 2016, and that happened in 2014. Even I was 37 years old when that happened. Why's he still punishing this guy? You convicted him, he appealed, it got overturned and should be done, and now months later you're trying to get him again.
"Every once in a while I get together with the guys, and we talk about all of these things, and I can tell you that they feel the same way that I feel right now."
And while pressure from the union forced Goodell to step aside during Rice's appeal, the fact that Goodell continues to possess the ability to handle appeals regarding some of his own verdicts—as he did when Brady and the union appealed his initial Deflategate ruling last year—continues to frustrate players.
"Discipline is probably the big area where he is kind of failing to do his job properly," Kluwe said. "Because ideally you want a disciplinary process where everyone knows what the rules are. They know if you break the rules, and then there's a process of truly independent appeals so you can make your case again.
"Unfortunately, under Goodell, that hasn't really existed," Kluwe continued. "A lot of his disciplinary decisions have been made up on the fly—they've been reactive instead of proactive, instead of having a structure in place already. Good leaders are able to foresee this stuff before it actually harms your league, and I don't think the NFL has done that at all."
Unsurprisingly, in a survey of more than 100 NFL players conducted last year by ESPN, 88 percent felt that player discipline should not be decided only by Goodell. But the good news for that demographic is that while he still wields absolute power in regard to certain off-the-field incidents, even that might be on the verge of changing.
"We've been talking about changes to the personal conduct policy since October and have traded proposals," NFLPA executive director DeMaurice Smith told the Wall Street Journal's Matthew Futterman in March. "We looked at the league's proposal for neutral arbitration. There is a common ground for us to get something done."
If indeed Goodell is stripped of some power in that regard—and he stated on ESPN Radio (h/t NFL.com's Conor Orr) last fall that he'd be "open" to changing his role when it comes to disciplinary matters—Haggans is holding out hope for a committee approach.
"It shouldn't be just one guy saying, 'Hey, this is what I think,' like he's their father," the former linebacker said. "Does he have a lot of power? Absolutely. Does it need to be refereed? Absolutely. Bring in a team. He can still have the power, but have people vote on it. Majority rules. But he can't just sit there and just tell us this is how it's gonna be. That's why a lot of players say to hell with him."
"We feel like a lot of power is in one man's hands," Graham added. "And whenever you have that, it isn't good."
Regardless of what the fix should be, this is indeed all about power. Everyone we spoke with agreed Goodell still possesses too much of it.
Weak Union Hurts His Image
If you subscribe to the theory that Roger Goodell is a monster, you must also consider the role the NFLPA played in creating that monster. Because as Kluwe noted, "The players really did get screwed with this CBA."
When the last collective bargaining agreement expired in 2011, the players were well-aware that Goodell possessed a dangerous amount of power. The Patriots had been docked a first-round pick for illegally videotaping the Jets' defensive signals in 2007, and Adam "Pacman" Jones, Chris Henry, Tank Johnson, Michael Vick and Ben Roethlisberger had all been hit with substantial suspensions under Goodell's new conduct policy.
And yet the union failed to remove any of Goodell's disciplinary powers from the new CBA.
"We definitely dropped the ball with that," said Graham, who has served as an alternate NFLPA player rep. "That was something that in hindsight was very important, and now he has complete power over everything. So when there's something we don't agree with, it doesn't matter. When you're negotiating a CBA, you give and take on certain things, and that's definitely one of the things we shouldn't have given up."
The players may have dug their own graves in 2011, and Kluwe noted that the union's shortcomings continue to inflate Goodell's power.
"Since there is a power vacuum and he's the only one filling it, the tendency to become a dictator is more likely than if there was a counterbalancing force like a strong NFLPA, which the NFL doesn't have," Kluwe said.
Goodell may in fact only come across as a bully because nobody has stood up to him.
And even that might not be all on the union. Because, as Kluwe pointed out, the short-shelf-life dynamics of the game of football inevitably strip the players of a huge potential bargaining chip.
"The NFLPA as a whole is a really weak union," Kluwe said. "It doesn't have the same bargaining strength that the MLBPA does. The players have to realize that if you want to make substantial changes, you're going to have to consider the possibility of striking, and it has to be legit. It has to be an entire season, or multiple seasons, if necessary, and that's a really tough sell because football careers aren't very long."
Before Goodell came to power and the CBA had to be addressed, well over a decade had passed without any major clashes between the NFL and NFLPA. But there was a growing sense among owners that the 1993 CBA, which had been extended on three occasions, was balanced in favor of the players and that a correction was necessary. Goodell's job was to fight for that on behalf of the owners, and he succeeded.
"When I came into the league in 2004, there had already been quite a few years of labor peace, and then in a few years, we had to renegotiate the CBA," Scott said. "A lot of guys might not have realized until that point that Roger Goodell doesn't represent both sides."
Unfortunately, the adversarial nature of those negotiations reminded or revealed to players which team Goodell plays for.
The High Price of High Hits
Goodell also took office just as medical researchers were establishing strong connections among football, concussions and chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), a crippling degenerative disease that has been found in brain tissue belonging to dozens of deceased former players over the course of the last decade.
Broadly, player safety has become the league's top priority, although the rationale for that is open for debate. There is significant evidence that the league initially attempted to suppress concussion data and information, and the NFL now owes thousands of former players more than $700 million after settling a class-action lawsuit in which the ex-players claimed they were lied to about the dangers of concussions.
"Either you don't know or you don't care to know. Either way, we've got a problem," Rosenfels said, again, in order to emphasize the notion that the Goodell administration has either been incompetent or negligent (or both) in multiple areas.
Goodell and his cohorts have introduced a wide variety of major rule changes in recent years, most of which are aimed at protecting players. Still, the league's motivations have come under fire.
"Why were those things done?" Kluwe said. "Out of legitimate concern for player safety or because they had no choice?"
Several defensive players also expressed bitterness regarding the impression that the vast majority of the changes have favored protecting offensive players—particularly quarterbacks—over defenders.
"Why is one person's health and well-being held in higher regard than 21 other men out there?" said Greer, who started 86 games at cornerback during a 10-year career with the Bills and Saints. "The obvious answer is because he is the most lucrative and visible player on the field.
"By lifting up one position, you aren't lifting up the entire game. You're basically saying that 21 other guys aren't as important. I think player safety, collectively, is important. And I think that was brought on by public pressure, not Roger Goodell's leadership.
"I would say that they've done a great job the last few years implementing rules to protect defensive players. That was a long time coming, and they did that, but I would not say that was because of Roger Goodell."
Not only is there sentiment that rules geared to protect offensive stars discount defensive players, but as Graham pointed out, they also put them at a legitimate competitive disadvantage.
"The way it's set up now you pretty much can't even touch quarterbacks," Graham said. "So it's definitely tough on defensive players and even defensive backs these days because you pretty much can't even touch receivers without getting a flag."
"A lot of times, guys will get fined for clean but physical plays," Lenon added. "I think they're looking for that, and they're often overreactive. As a player, you don't have a stopwatch in your hand. You're just trying to play the game. So it's difficult."
That's the tricky aspect to this whole safety revolution. The football many of these guys knew as kids no longer exists. The game has been forced to evolve, smartly, in order to avoid facing extinction.
But if you strip the instinctive nature from the game, is it still football at all?
Trust Issues
Whether it be in regard to discipline, player safety, rule changes or the CBA, the prevailing sentiment regarding Goodell is that the players don't trust him.
"When you ask different players on different teams, the one thing that everybody seems to lack with Goodell is trust," said Lenon, who spent time on five different rosters between 2002 and 2013. "And when you look at what's gone on through the years, I think he has less trust now than ever."
"Goodell is viewed by the players as someone who just can't be trusted—he's a dictator," Kluwe said. "He makes his decisions, and then if you appeal them, they go back to him. There's no real appeals process at all. And a lot of his decisions simply haven't been right."
Greer recalled Goodell coming into the Saints locker room circa 2012, not long after the lockout and Bountygate—a scandal in which Goodell suspended and/or fined eight Saints players, coaches and executives after a league investigation found that members of the franchise paid out bonuses for injuring opposing players, only to have former commissioner Paul Tagliabue overturn all of the player sanctions on appeal.
At that point, it seemed Goodell's standing with the players had reached a point of no return. Greer vividly remembers "feeling a general sense of unease, of mistrust."
"The emotions were running high," he said. "People didn't really trust what he was saying because there was such a disconnect between players and their concerns and what we felt Roger Goodell's main concerns were."
Disappearing Act
Roger Goodell may be a figurehead, and he's often perceived as being larger than life. He's been dehumanized by the public, and his often stoic public persona plays a role there.
However, he doesn't completely lack the ability to endear himself.
The best example of the human Goodell comes every year at the draft, where the commissioner has for each of the last seven years played along with jovial first-round picks by embracing them on stage in laudable and sometimes hilarious fashion.
It all started with No. 3 overall pick Gerald McCoy in 2010. The day before that draft, McCoy and a group of draft attendees projected to be chosen in Round 1 met with the commish in his office. Goodell gave the group a rundown so that they'd know what to expect the next night, and then a room containing Goodell and several nervous college students fell silent.
That is until McCoy unintentionally tested Goodell's charisma by feeling him out regarding the potential for creativity on stage.
"I have a question," McCoy recalled saying. "What is allowed and what isn't allowed when we get drafted? What's OK to do? What's the craziest thing that can happen?"
Goodell's response, per McCoy: "When people hear your name called and you walk on the stage, they should be able to see that you love the game of football and that you're having fun and are appreciative and happy that you got drafted. As long as people see that you're happy and you show emotion when you get drafted, that's all I care about."
About 24 hours later, Goodell and McCoy embraced in the bearhug felt throughout the football world. And moments after that, Goodell announced Washington's No. 4 overall selection by referring to Trent Williams as "Trent 'Silverback' Williams." The offensive tackle, inspired by the lighthearted conversation from the previous day, had requested Goodell use his nickname.
Goodell's been hugging rookies ever since. In other cases, he's taken selfies and coordinated handshakes with first-rounders. It's become a tradition.
"We've always got along," McCoy said. "It's almost like a thing now. We were walking together during the lockout and hugged each other. I haven't seen him in years, though. Since 2011 probably."
That's no coincidence, because a prevalent sentiment among players is that Goodell has been missing in action for much of his tenure, especially since the 2011 lockout.
"He used to come out, but once he realized the players aren't really for him, he stopped traveling to visit teams," said Hayward, an eight-year veteran who has served as an NFLPA player representative. "I couldn't tell you the last time I saw him. I just know he started [making visits], and it didn't turn out well for him, so he just kind of stopped visiting."
Goodell simply isn't welcome in a lot of NFL locker rooms, but that wasn't always the case. Scott figures he's become persona non grata primarily because of the way he attempted to transition from player friend to player foe when the CBA was expiring.
"I think Roger was trying to portray the image publicly that he was working for both sides," he said. "And then you get into labor negotiations, and players quickly realized this guy isn't negotiating on our behalf. And he's not obligated to. That's not his job."
But that reality doesn't mean Goodell can't have a civil relationship with the men who represent his brand.
"I will say I wish his relationship with the players was better," Graham said. "In my opinion, he doesn't have one. It's all about his bosses, and he has like no relationship at all with any of the players."
The players we spoke with are well-informed, and thus they understand where Goodell's allegiance lies. But there's frustration regarding the notion that Goodell has refused to reach across the aisle for years.
Paul vs. Roger
That lack of presence is just another way in which Goodell differs from his predecessor, Paul Tagliabue.
"I actually saw Tagliabue at Valley Ranch two, three, maybe four times," Adams recalled. "Goodell? Nope, not at all. If he was there, we didn't see him. He could have been there and talked to Jerry [Jones] and went on his merry way. But as for being on the field during practice? No, he hasn't been there. Tagliabue was."
It's odd, because Goodell was Tagliabue's top lieutenant for half a decade, and he served under Tagliabue for his entire 17-year reign as commissioner. And yet Tagliabue is viewed in a much more flattering light. Labor peace, or a lack thereof, is a factor there, but it clearly goes beyond that.
"It probably is unlucky timing, but it does seem like some things have been amiss regardless," said Rosenfels, whose career overlapped the two commissioner eras. "I don't remember owners coming out and criticizing the commissioner this much in the past either."
That's true, but despite some backlash from particular owners, it does appear as though Goodell remains in their good graces overall, probably because the league's revenues are projected to surpass $13 billion in 2016.
Goodell's public image has suffered as a result of the time at which he took over as commissioner, as well as some of the decisions he's made, but his bank account and his job security have not felt that wrath.
Still, a lot of players feel victimized.
"We felt as though Roger Goodell really had the economic bottom line as his No. 1 interest," Greer said. "We understood that it was a business, but as a professional athlete, as a man, we also felt under Tagliabue that there was more of an understanding, a sense of compassion for our position as players and what we actually contributed to the game."
Adams, who was fined by both Tagliabue and Goodell, remembers having phone calls with Tagliabue's office days after being fined. On the line would be the commissioner and several other league representatives. But that stopped happening when Goodell took over.
"Tagliabue was in it so long, and his personality was way different," he said. "This guy came in and started swinging the bat both ways, and he's making like $30 million a year? C'mon man, really? He's making more than the players and coaches to sit in New York—if he's there—and hand out fines. I don't know what his deal is. It's very confusing. I won't say I hate him because I don't hate anybody. I dislike a lot of his ways, but I know guys who say they hate him."
Former Player for Commish?
The majority of the bad blood between the players and Goodell seems to exist because of the fact there's a perception he doesn't understand or sympathize with those who are starring in his weekly show.
"He hasn't been out on the field and doesn't know what's going on or how things are going on and hasn't actually experienced it," Adams said. "So it's hard for us to see him making decisions of that nature. I don't care who told you what or how many hours you spent watching film."
"It's kind of hard having somebody who's never played the sport be the caretaker of the sport," Hayward added. "Nobody really cares for where he stands on a lot of the main sticking points. How can you make decisions on a sport if you really never played the sport? You can't sit there and say you should hit somebody this way or that way if you've never run a 4.3 and taken an angle and broke on a ball and hit somebody in a matter of split seconds. You're going to tell me that I had enough time to react?"
But Tagliabue and Rozelle weren't professional athletes, and neither was NBA Commissioner Adam Silver, NHL Commissioner Gary Bettman or MLB Commissioner Rob Manfred, so it would be hard to argue that Goodell's lack of experience in the sport has affected his ability to do his job. And as Rosenfels noted, "the NRA hires somebody to make the NRA more money," not a sharpshooter.
But that alone sort of indicates how much professional football has drifted from recreation and leisure to big business. After all, the league's first commissioner, Elmer Layden, was an NFL fullback. Its second, Bert Bell, coached the Eagles and Steelers.
Those guys had deep football backgrounds and experience on the other side of that aisle. So while there's no doubt Goodell has excelled at his job on paper, it's possible the NFL would be better off with a leader who has seen the game through a facemask, especially if you subscribe to the notion that pro football would be experiencing this level of financial growth with or without Goodell.
The NFL's Moneymaker?
That disconnect between Goodell and the players made it difficult to mine first-person anecdotes involving the commissioner. Despite all of the frustration that was expressed by the players we spoke with, though, there was a sentiment that Goodell is, at his core, a good guy.
"I know he's reached out to guys who have needed help on a personal level," Scott said. "I know he's willing to do that for the players. If a guy really needed some help and called him, he would be there. You can't allow the business side to affect your view of him as a person.
"I think he is a really good person. It's just the business side that complicates things. And in the NFL you're dealing with a lot of young guys who let a lot of emotion in."
And even when they're too bitter to hope for anything but the demise of Goodell's career—for example, when asked what he hopes Goodell does in the years to come, Hayward could only say, "Leave or get fired"—they're forced to admit that he probably isn't going anywhere anytime soon.
"That's probably not going to happen," Hayward added after relaying his sour wish, "because he's making the owners money."
And from Haggans: "Obviously he has some talent because he became commissioner of one of the most lucrative sports leagues in the history of the world. And he's made them a ton of money."
And from Rosenfels, after expressing his frustration: "But he has made the league a lot of money, I will say that."
Kluwe would like to frame that argument differently, with an important note that correlation does not imply causation.
"The league continues to grow, but do we really know if that's due to Goodell's leadership or if it's due to the big TV contracts?" Kluwe asked. "The question just becomes, could he be doing it better?"
That's a debate we may very well be having for at least another decade as Roger Goodell's complicated legacy continues to grow.
Brad Gagnon has covered the NFL for Bleacher Report since 2012.
Follow @Brad_Gagnon