Each week it seems that NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell has a new fine to dispense, and throughout the whole season, the players have lashed back. So when Tennessee Titans cornerback Cortland Finnegan and Houston Texans wide receiver Andre Johnson turned to fisticuffs Sunday afternoon, everyone waited to see the severity of the punishment that Finnegan and Johnson would inevitably face. While most predicted suspensions for both players, it turned out that each only had to ante up $25,000.
Consider the common playground bully. At every elementary school, there was always that kid who provoked and attacked the other kids during recess. Yet no matter how many times he picked on other children, he always ended up with just a slap on the wrist and no real repercussions. All of that changed when one brave kid finally stood up and fought back, freeing his classmates from the bully's tyrannical reign. Or at least that's how the movies tell it.
Well, on a warm afternoon in Houston, Texas, Johnson did what no one else would: He changed Cortland Finnegan's name to Cortland Innegan after beating the "F" out of him.
Now, I understand that Johnson is 6-foot-3-inches and 225 pounds and Innegan — hereafter referred to as such — is 5-foot-10-inches and 190 pounds, so this hardly seems like a fair fight. However, Johnson is widely known around the league as an extremely soft-spoken player who rarely, if at all, stirs up any kind of trouble.
Furthermore, Innegan reportedly warned the Texans' sideline that fireworks were coming before he shoved Johnson in the facemask off the snap, provoking punches.
So the facts, coupled with Innegan's already-lengthy list of fines from Goodell, leave the lasting image that Innegan might have deserved his beat-down.
Fighting is hardly the best way to resolve problems, but for a sport in which violence is prevalent on every down, what Johnson did is by no means excessive. The two players scuffled briefly, with Johnson connecting on two big right-hands, and the fight was then broken up.
Johnson's intentions were no different from every ball-hawking free safety who flies over the middle of the field, helmet-first, attempting to decapitate receivers whose eyes are elsewhere. These kinds of vicious hits have been accounted for with rule changes and an increasing fine scale, but never do they result in direct suspensions.
In the past few seasons — especially this one — the image of the league has taken precedence over the appropriateness of the punishment itself, which has resulted in fans, players and sportswriters calling for Goodell to be consistent in his decisions.
Pittsburgh Steelers linebacker James Harrison was fined $75,000 for a hit earlier this year on Cleveland Browns wideout Mohamed Massaquoi. The fine on its own wasn't the issue; it was the fact that Harrison was being punished for violating a rule that was established after his hit on Massaquoi took place. Goodell's desires to retroactively clean up helmet-to-helmet hits superseded the justness of Harrison's fine as the league made an example out of him.
Innegan proved to the commissioner that being fined wasn't going to stop him from playing dirty. In September, he was fined $5,000 for violently throwing New York Giants receiver Steve Smith to the ground by his helmet, and in October, he was fined $10,000 for hitting a helmet-less Denver Broncos player, with a warning from the NFL that stricter punishments may ensue.
As a first-time violator who was provoked, Johnson's fine was reasonable. But if Goodell is going to threaten suspensions, Innegan's third offense in three months ought to warrant the harsher penalty.
