The Cut

by Wil Mara

  Before the injury, he was in the Zone all the time. When he stepped onto the field, his opponents worried about him. Every game was a master performance. Back then he knew he had something special, a one-in-a-million talent. He wasn’t arrogant about it, but he made a point of enjoying it.

  After the injury, even when he knew the rehab was working and he was certain he could play again, he wondered if the old magic would still be there. Could he still get into the Zone with the Frankenstein joints? He’d been amazing in the past, but he hadn’t seen any signs of it lately. He played well enough the first two preseason games, but he wasn’t about to deem them amazing.

  Before the third game, on the bus ride down, he decided it was time to find out, to cast aside all inhibitions and just let loose. He couldn’t play like this all the time, worrying if the knee was going to fall apart again. That kind of fear could cost him dearly.

  Greenwood took him out of the game at the start of the fourth quarter. That was a good sign, Reese knew; it meant the coach felt he had seen everything he needed to see. So he sat on the sidelines with a towel around his neck and watched his two rivals. He was surprised to see them struggling. Hamilton’s mind was definitely somewhere else. He dropped three passes, was knocked on his ass twice, and missed a crucial block that gave one of Cleveland’s DEs a direct route to the Giants’ backup quarterback. They were picking turf out of the guy’s face mask after that blunder. And Foster, although as quick and eager as ever, was finally starting to show his rookie colors, missing routes on some of the more complicated plays and getting pushed around by more experienced linemen and linebackers. Most of the weaker players had already been filtered out of Cleveland’s roster. In spite of the fact that the Giants were losing the game by ten points with five minutes left, Reese felt like he’d had one hell of a night—and might have cemented his future.

  On the sidelines, unnoticed by all three candidates, Jim O’Leary strode over to Dale Greenwood and said, “So, what do you think?”

  Greenwood had his headphones down around his neck and a clipboard in hand, jutting out from his gut. “I think I was wrong.”

  “About what?”

  “About telling Gray that none of those guys could take T. J.’s place.” Greenwood turned and faced him. “That’s what I think. How about you?”

  O’Leary nodded. “I think you might be right.”

  26

  They were dropping like flies.

  Two more cuts immediately after the Cleveland loss, and another four earlier this morning. Mondays were the worst, everyone came to realize. The coaches had a chance to review the game film, make their notes, and cast their judgments. Then they’d get together for final discussions with Gray, and the axe would start to fall. One seemingly offhand comment by a position coach could decide someone’s future. One comment, one observation, one mistake—your career hung by a thread every minute.

  Jordan “Itchy” Fisher seemed to know this as well as anybody. From the day he came to camp, he was as nervous as a bee. He never sat still, which was why his teammates gave him the nickname. Itchy was a wide receiver in his fourth year in the league, a free-agent pickup from Green Bay. His record there had been mediocre at best. When the team cut him at the end of his rookie contract, only two other teams seemed interested, and the Giants were closer to his home state of Pennsylvania. He wanted to do well, to get on the team at least, even if he wasn’t going to be a starter. But he had such a negative outlook on the whole thing, it was almost as if he were condemning himself to a predetermined fate.

  A few more cuts and it would be all over. The tension was so heavy it even made breathing difficult. Itchy was sitting on his cot thinking about how he would break the news to his wife when the inevitable occurred. Then he got to his feet, wringing his hands, and paced up and down between the two beds.

  “She’s gonna cry,” he said. “I know she’s gonna cry.”

  “You’ll be fine,” his roommate replied. Clarence Pittman had also been a free-agent pickup, in his fifth year in the league and a former victim of the salary cap. He’d done extremely well during his tenure with the Saints, but when it was time for a new contract, he and his agent discovered there was very little loot left in the New Orleans till, so they decided to try their luck elsewhere. Lying on his cot with one knee raised and the other leg propped over it, he flipped through a magazine and said, “You’re going to give yourself a stroke.”

  “Yeah, sure, what the hell do you have to worry about? You’re safe.”

  “Mmm—not necessarily. No one’s safe until the end.”

  He was just trying to be humble. Inside, however, he believed Fisher to be correct—he would cruise past the final cut and coast into a nice fat contract. He’d had a great camp. Not his best ever, but pretty damn good. He’d studied his competition carefully and played just well enough to outdo them. It was the same theory motorists used to make sure they didn’t get pulled over for speeding—as long as they were going slower than the Other Guy, how could they get in trouble? Pittman knew the training camp game; he’d played it before.

  “Yeah, well … I made some mistakes out there,” Itchy rambled on, taking his playbook off the dresser, fanning the pages absently, then throwing it back. “I know I did. They noticed, Pitt, I know they did. I don’t even know why I’m here now.”

  “Because you’ve got heart,” Pittman told him, scrutinizing a full-page ad for women’s underwear. He believed this much, at least—for all of Fisher’s shortcomings, he did have passion. It almost made up for his errors. Yes, he’d made a few. Pittman wasn’t even an offensive player and he’d spotted them. But Itchy’s enthusiasm and competitive fire were unmatched. Pittman felt sorry for him. They had become casual friends. He didn’t want to see him disappointed, but.…

  “Heart,” Itchy snorted. “Who cares about heart when you drop the ball?”

  “Nah,” Pittman said, now tired of the conversation—so much like others they’d had. “You’ll be fine.”

  They fell quiet for a while. Itchy sat down with his book and reviewed the plays they’d gone over that day. More study never hurt.

  When the knock came on the plain wooden door, Fisher felt like a frozen hand had grabbed his heart. He looked over at Pittman, who casually returned the glance before going back to the magazine.

  Itchy was about to say, Who do you think that is? Before he got the words out, someone on the other side said, “Fisher? Pittman? Are you in there?”

  Fisher swallowed hard. He knew that voice. Everyone did by now.

  “Uh … yeah. We’re in here.”

  The knob turned. This happened at a normal speed, but in Fisher’s overdramatizing, hyperemotional mind it was much slower, like in a horror movie.

  Then the Turk’s grim figure filled the doorway. He was wearing a navy blue windbreaker and a Giants cap that seemed absurdly large in relation to the size of his head.

  Pittman closed his eyes and asked God for the incident to be quick, and for Fisher to find another team as soon as possible. He didn’t want to see the guy hurt any more than necessary.

  “… would you come with me, please?” he heard the Turk say colorlessly. “Coach wants to see you. And bring along your playbook.” Heartless sonofabitch, Pittman thought. How can anyone do this for a living?

  He had hoped he could get through the moment without becoming personally involved, but he was unable to control the desire to turn his head just enough to see the look on Fisher’s face. It was, he supposed, the same macabre fascination that made people slow down at car accidents.

  Knowing Fisher as he did, his primary expectation was that the guy would bawl like a child. Pittman had heard about one guy who had to be pried from his cot and carried to the elevator. Fisher wasn’t of that stripe. He’d go peacefully, but he wouldn’t be able to control himself.

  There were several other scenarios Pittman had envisioned as well, but none had the expression that he eventually found on Itchy’s face—slack-jawed as
tonishment. What was even more surprising, though, was that Fisher wasn’t looking at Blumenthal.

  He was looking at him.

  “Pittman,” the Turk repeated with a touch of impatience, “come on, let’s go.”

  Clarence Pittman brought the magazine down slowly. He hadn’t actually seen Blumenthal yet, and for the rest of his life he would remember the moment with exquisite clarity—as the magazine slid away and the image of his executioner was revealed.

  “What…?”

  This came out with no force at all. He wanted it to sound angry. Instead it was feeble, almost pathetic. It was shock and disbelief and despair all jumbled together.

  “Come on,” Blumenthal said. “Get your playbook. The coach has a lot to do today.”

  Pittman turned again to Fisher, who looked utterly terrified.

  The next twenty minutes would replay in Clarence Pittman’s memory in a soft-edged blur. He would remember his hand reaching out to retrieve the playbook, remember being led down the echoey hallway into the elevator and then onto a floor he’d never been to. He would recall the brief conversation with Alan Gray (… really thought you had a shot … felt some of the other guys did better…) and then, finally, being escorted to his car by someone other than Don Blumenthal—someone he’d never seen before and, he was sure, would never see again. The guy said something ridiculous like “Take it easy,” then walked away, leaving him there alone.

  Just like that, it was over.

  27

  In the Matter of the Arbitration Between—

  * * *

  THOMAS JAMES BROOKMAN AND

  THE NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE PLAYERS ASSOCIATION

  and

  THE NEW YORK FOOTBALL GIANTS AND

  THE NFL MANAGEMENT COUNCIL

  * * *

  Hearing held before William T. Serra, Esq.

  APPEARANCES—

  For the Management Council

  • Craig Little, Esq.

  • Walter Bartlett, Esq.

  For the National Football League Players Association

  • Matthew Blackman, Esq.

  • Bill Chachkes, Esq.

  Opinion

  Before the start of the New York Giants’ (hereinafter the “Club”) training camp, the plaintiff, Thomas James Brookman (hereinafter the “Plaintiff”), requested that his present contract with the Club be terminated, and a new contract drawn up, this due to his above-average performance during the previous three seasons—particularly the latter two—in connection with the fact that said contract, having been offered during his rookie year, provided him only with league-minimum compensation.

  When the Club declined his request, the Plaintiff, through his agent, Barry Matthias Sturtz (hereinafter the “Agent”), informed the Club that the Plaintiff would not be participating in any further Club activities until the issue was resolved to the Plaintiff’s and Agent’s satisfaction. When the Club insisted it would not alter its position on the matter, the Plaintiff then filed a formal grievance and request for independent arbitration, which was eventually granted.

  Issues

  1. Is the Plaintiff within his rights to temporarily set aside his responsibilities to the Club per his existing contract because he feels said contract is no longer representative of his best interests and reflective of his current skill level?

  2. Should the Club be obligated to offer the Plaintiff a new contract commensurate with his improved skills and contributions to the Club? If not, should the contract then be terminated and the Plaintiff allowed to seek adequate employment with a different club?

  Relevant Contract Provisions

  Collective Bargaining Agreement

  Article XIV: NFL Player Contract

  Section 5: General

  5(c): No Club shall pay or be obligated to pay any player or Player Affiliate (not including retired players) other than pursuant to the terms of a signed NFL Player Contract or a contract for non-football related services as described in Section 5(b). Nothing contained in the immediately preceding sentence shall interfere with a Club’s obligation to pay a player deferred compensation earned under a prior Player Contract.

  NFL Player Contract (generic)

  Section 2, Employment and Services: Club employs Player as a skilled football player. Player accepts such employment. He agrees to give his best efforts and loyalty to the Club, and to conduct himself on and off the field with appropriate recognition of the fact that the success of professional football depends largely on public respect for and approval of those associated with the game. Player will report promptly for and participate fully in Club’s official mandatory minicamp(s), official preseason training camp, all Club meetings and practice sessions, and all preseason, regular season, and postseason football games scheduled for or by Club.

  Management/Club Position

  The Club (and Management Council) maintains that the original contract awarded to the Plaintiff was made in good faith, with both parties understanding and agreeing to the terms therein. Furthermore, the Club maintains that the Plaintiff and his agent at the time (note: not the same individual as the “Agent” as referred to elsewhere in this document) were fully cognizant of the awards provided to the Plaintiff in the original and present contract, and that the Plaintiff was expected to make every reasonable effort to improve his skills so that his value to the Club would increase over time. Finally, the Club has made it clear that it has every intention of offering the Plaintiff a new contract once the original contract has come full term (i.e., at the end of the present season), or, in the event that a new agreement cannot be reached, the Plaintiff, who currently is not tagged as a franchise player (see Collective Bargaining Agreement, Article XX), is then free to seek employment with a different Club. Thus, the Club believes that the Plaintiff is duty-bound to honor the terms of the contract and agreement into which he entered, regardless of his above-average performance.

  NFLPA/Plaintiff Position

  The Plaintiff (and NFLPA) maintains that his skill level and contribution to the Club has increased beyond even what would be considered “normal” and that he is now consistently performing at a level comparable to the top players in his position leaguewide. The Plaintiff further maintains that he is now a “key” element in the Club’s success, and as such should be compensated appropriately. Aware that the Club is willing to offer a more lucrative deal at the end of the current contract, which is less than one season from its natural terminus, the Plaintiff sees no just cause for putting off the negotiation of the new agreement, as he wishes to continue contributing to the team’s success as he has in the past, but feels that he cannot do so until such an agreement has been settled.

  Analysis

  There is little doubt that the contributions by the Plaintiff to the Club during his tenure thus far have been outstanding. While he had a modest rookie season due to the fact that a senior player was occupying the starting role at his position, the Plaintiff did an admirable job of handling those duties after the senior player sustained an injury and was forced to concede the position. From that day forward, the Plaintiff devoted himself wholly and fully to becoming one of the finest at this position among active players, and, from all accounts, succeeded tremendously.

  There is also little doubt that the Plaintiff, due to his excellent abilities and consistency of performance, is likely, based on “market value” (this determined within the context of others playing his position combined with their salaries), worthy of increased financial consideration. There is little doubt that the Plaintiff, either with the Club or with another organization, will be receiving greater compensation in the future, barring a career-ending injury or other misfortune.

  However, the facts given above do not, regardless of their merit, automatically grant the Plaintiff the right to a greater salary, or, more to the point, the right for the Plaintiff to, essentially, “blackmail” the Club into agreeing to a higher salary by refusing to fulfill the duties outlined in his original contract. Also
, while it may be true that, colloquially, it is the opinion of this committee that the Plaintiff is, in fact, performing at a level deserving of greater rewards, the matter still must be resolved by the Plaintiff and the Club independent of this committee, i.e., the Club should not be the tool with which the Plaintiff forces the Club to submit to his wishes. Under alternative circumstances this might indeed be the case, e.g., if the Plaintiff was still early in his current contract and had several years of substandard salary ahead. But in this instance the original contract is nearing its end, so a premature termination would not be justified.

  Furthermore, it is not the desire of the arbitrator to set forth a standard by which other players and their representatives will be eager to follow the same inappropriate actions that the Plaintiff has taken in this matter, e.g., refusing to fulfill his duties to his team as a means of leverage when a situation is not to his liking. There is a tremendous degree of flexibility within the interpretation of what entitles a player to a renegotiated contract, and the point should be made that improvement of one’s skills is a natural, fully expected progression in the league, i.e., all players are expected to become more valuable to a team as time passes. But this does not automatically entitle them to greater compensation than that which has already been outlined—and agreed upon—in their existing contract. Due to this flexibility of interpretation, such matters are best handled on a case-by-case basis, again, between the players and organizations in question. Only in extreme cases is independent arbitration justified, and this does not appear to be one of those cases.