David Tepper Throwing a Drink Is a Pathetic Look for the NFL

I would say suspend or fine Carolina Panthers owner David Tepper for throwing a drink at a Jacksonville Jaguars fan Sunday, but this is the NFL we’re talking about. The ruling class is immune from the kind of punishment the league office insists is doled out to the players and coaches, providing that special blend of haughty, C-suite satisfaction and lopsided justice our society knows too well.

And really, it’s far more of a punishment for Tepper to have to continue running a franchise that he’s steered into the ground over these past few years via his frantic mismanagement. I hope he enjoys watching the Bears make the No. 1 pick in a few months.

I’m sure there are boot lickers out there who are saying that they wish their owners had that kind of fire, as if the classless hurling of a beverage from your suite like a medieval king is akin to some kind of passion. Sure, maybe it was an expression of Tepper’s desire to win or an embedded, biological reaction to a crude insult that we are all prone to from time to time. But given Tepper’s position of power, it can also be perceived as a visual representation of how the owners feel deep down about those who consume the product and are willing to levee some face-to-face criticism. A drink toss has a certain connotation. Let’s be honest about that.

To be clear, I’m sure the fan wasn’t just politely reciting Shakespeare; and I’m not naive to the absolute fraternity house environment an NFL game can become. But this simply cannot happen. How can you run a team, hire a coach, and draft and sign players preaching some kind of culture of character when you’re exhibiting the kind of emotional reactionism that you hope your best employees do not possess under much higher-pressure circumstances?

We deserve so much more from the NFL’s owner group, be it in terms of ethical values, a moral compass, an ability to pass on a single business deal, a passion for fixing the officiating crisis, or, in some individual cases, even the slightest desire to provide adequate concern for their players. I’m not saying Tepper is guilty of all this individually, but the optics of chucking a drink at a fan, at a time of power imbalance in the NFL, is a kind of cataclysmic moment. If nothing happens, if the discourse trends toward the danger assumed by executives in open-air press boxes, it’s hard not to take that as a major middle finger to the consumer base.

Sports is starting to feel like the last frontier in our society that allows us to openly criticize people in power. To get one off our chest. To fly banners over stadiums (as long as they aren’t grounded). To hold signs at the stadium (as long as they aren’t confiscated). To call in to talk radio stations and complain (as long as those calls are taken, and assuming the owner of the team doesn’t also own the talk radio station and encourage the board operator to cut you off the air). And even now, most of the people who report on the game for a living cash a check from an owner or a rightsholder.

Overreaction? Maybe, but it’s hard not to feel the walls closing in a little bit, which is why we should all be curious to see what will happen.

The NFL, its in-game environment, its chaotic atmosphere and its perpetually charged, World Wrestling Entertainment fanfic way of operating lend itself to a unique and subjective set of rules. For example, it’s entirely O.K. for Nick Sirianni to scream at Chiefs fans as he walks out of Arrowhead Stadium following a victory. He is in the arena. He exists as part of the flow of a game. He gets taunted, criticized, screamed at.

I’m O.K. with Howie Roseman jovially and profanely disputing his track record of drafting bad wide receivers. Both of these people are living with the day-to-day knowledge that they can be fired in an instant, at the whim of the powers that be. They live with the constant electricity.

But an owner, separated both physically and metaphorically, by a level of concrete and a retractable pane of glass (nevermind some degree of security personnel who could swoop in at any minute) throwing a drink? It’s beyond what is reasonable. It’s a pathetic look, regardless of what prompted it. It’s the kind of thing Tepper would fine a player for, and perhaps even cut him for if he were disposable enough. Unfortunately, Tepper is the person setting the standards in Carolina. Even before this moment, it shows.