Roger Goodell murdered a pizza.
This explains so much about the NFL Commissioner, his ego, his enablers, and officially confirms that he came with an owner’s manual. I MEAN WHAT HUMAN DOESN’T TOUCH A PIZZA.
I digress, and I think, it must’ve gone like this: A room full of grown men decided enough of them were hungry enough to order food. Upon having the inevitable discussions of where to order from and what toppings everyone agreed on, they ordered. They waited. It came. They waited. They waited some more. They continued to wait. Goodell never touched a slice, neither did they for some reason, the pizza died, and they all went home hungry with the thought that in their timidity they had done a good thing.
Let’s examine this even more thoroughly. First, let’s say you’ve just arrived on this planet in a pod of some sort and have never had pizza. And let’s assume you can’t tell this to others without being murdered and sold to science. Now, because of your superior alien intellect you chose to assimilate into our world as a white male with an inheritance and a football-y last name like ‘Lombargrudenrooney,’ you’re in a board room with Roger Goodell. You don’t know what this “pizza” is that everyone keeps speaking of but you’re smart enough to know it’s food. You also know it looks good. And you know you want it in your face. Yet nobody is touching it. NOBODY. You conclude that you all must be from the same planet and they’re all just as confused as you are. Feeling a relieved comfort that comes from being around familiars for the first time in 40+ earth human years, you break the silence, “I know we’ve all never had pizza but dammit I’m gonna try it.” You’re murdered and sold to science.
The dynamics of how a freshly delivered pizza can sit in a room full of hungry grown men who refuse to touch it until a particular man does is horrifying. I’d have to have leprosy and at least two of the five hepatitis viruses for me to not be the first to touch a pizza. Could you imagine having that power? Could you imagine being the kind of dick that would command that kind of power? Not to say I wouldn’t enjoy it in a ‘red light/green light’ way but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let a pizza go cold. That’s a sin. If stone tablets weren’t so hard to cut in 1495 B.C. it’d be the 11th Commandment.
Roger Goodell cocooning himself with enough backslapping ‘yes’ men to fill a room is both incredibly insecure and incredibly egomaniacal. He’s basically saying that he never wants to be told he’s wrong. Ever. In a job that oversees $9.5bil in revenue per year he’s turned the Commissioner’s Office into a pillow fort with He-Man Woman Haters Club rules.
This is how you create a judicial system where you are solely in charge of punishment but also the overlord of the appeal process.
This is how you preach about player safety yet increase the number of Thursday night games and think it’s a good idea to make teams travel across an ocean to play ‘home’ games.
This is how you turn a blind eye to the DEA raiding multiple teams yet try to take an entire season (and season’s worth of pay) from Josh Gordon for smoking weed.
Don’t forget why these executives were there. This wasn’t a fluff meeting, they were brainstorming on how to exonerate the Commissioner of covering for Ray Rice. These were Goodell’s Winston Wolfes. The least he could’ve done was show appreciation for what he was tasking these men with and been aware enough to give the go-ahead to eat. But not only does Goodell need to get rid of these ‘yes’ men, he needs to replace them with ‘DUDE WTF ARE YOU DOING’ men. Because, dude, WTF is he even doing?
Watching the life drain out of an innocent pizza is only about the 9th worst thing he has done this season. Goodell needs to suspend his ego and surround himself with guys who are going to eat the damn pizza.