Since this is admittedly coming out of the bullpen, in the interest of full disclosure, the only thing I know about Lamar Jackson is he has electrifying talents that enable him to do remarkable things on the football field.
I know nothing about his personal or work habits, his pain level, or his tolerance of social media. I don’t know anything about his personality other than what I observe from his interviews. And I certainly don’t know anything about the status of his contract negotiations with the Baltimore Ravens.
All of which, from what I gather, makes me as qualified as a lot of other people to discuss the situation. It also means I’m no doubt wading into water over my head, but since the shallow end is already crowded, I’m going all in.
Here’s what I do know: Anyone making an assumption about another one’s health and/or well-being is skiing on a very slippery slope. It’s a place amateurs shouldn’t go, but somehow we too often do.
There is something else I know — the difference between guaranteed and non-guaranteed contracts. For the most part, baseball has them and football doesn’t. It’s as simple as that, and therein lies the stumbling block as far as negotiations go with Jackson and the Ravens.
But it is the undercurrent of those negotiations that has prompted so many to get involved in the uproar regarding Jackson’s playing status as the Ravens went into the playoffs and became a one-and-done team, much to the consternation of their fan base. Not to mention just about anyone tagged as an “expert” in and around the NFL, a number that seems to stretch into the thousands.
Many of those “experts,” some with microphones, others with only an active Twitter account or explosive website, openly questioned Jackson’s decisions (which presumably he makes in conjunction with the team’s medical staff), to miss the last six games of the season. Some of those opinions bordered on accusations while others, to be charitable, were ill-timed, including those by teammate Sammy Watkins and former quarterback Michael Vick, both of whom should have known better.
Jackson had not practiced the previous five weeks, so to think, as some speculated as recently as three days before the playoff loss, that he would miraculously recover, was unreasonable at least — and irresponsible for those with a public platform. At least that’s my opinion, and I’m sticking with it.
When Jackson suffered a “sprained” knee, it was presumed to be a 4-6 week injury. In almost every scenario one would take the outside estimate to resume related activities, with game action no more than a remote possibility.
It should be noted here that the playoff game was Week 6.
During the lead-up to the Ravens’ painful loss to the Bengals, the tone of conversations and observations all seemed to revolve around whether Jackson would or wouldn’t play because of his contract situation. There were insinuations that his work ethic left something to be desired, he was called a slacker, and his loyalty to both the team and his teammates was questioned, sometimes strongly.
On the other side of this complicated and controversial spectrum, the one reference that caught my attention was one that roasted the Ravens for signing Roquan Smith to a long-term contract but refusing to pony up the money for Jackson. This totally unrelated development seems to have struck a chord with those who blame the Ravens for the stalemate with their quarterback. And this seems to be the core of the issue which, I’m sure you’ll be shocked to learn, comes down to money.
Smith’s contract is for five years and $100 million, with $45 million guaranteed. If estimates that I’ve seen are accurate, and I emphasize knowing only what I’ve heard or read, the club’s offer to Jackson was $250 million, with $133 million guaranteed. I am not a math whiz but even I can figure this one out — Smith’s contract is 45 percent guaranteed, while the reported offer to Lamar would carry a 53 percent guarantee.
Guaranteed contracts in the NFL are like winning lottery tickets — you hear about one every once in a while. Kirk Cousins had the only known one — $84 million for three years, signed in 2018 before two extensions — until the Cleveland Browns guaranteed Deshaun Watson $230 million, setting a standard for Jackson to begin his own negotiations.
Now here’s something we can all say we know — the NFL Players Association, which has never been able to negotiate guaranteed contracts into the basic agreement with the league, has thrown its full support behind Jackson, knowing it will open doors for others to get what the union has been unable to provide.
There’s one other thing to consider here. Many of those on both sides who have voiced opinions have declared this matter would be resolved by now if Jackson had an agent. But it would be wrong to assume that either A) a contract would’ve been signed by now, or B) that Jackson would’ve been playing.
One thing you can be assured is no agent, contract or not, would advise a client to play if he didn’t think he was physically able to perform. At best, he would ask a player if he thought playing was worth the risk. And without protection of a contract he most assuredly would advise against taking even the slightest risk — so any suggestion that having an agent would have resolved this case is a very big stretch.
At the same time, it’s not likely that an agent would advise an NFL player to go on the injured reserve list, because it would mean a reduced salary. You might not have known (I certainly didn’t) until the Buffalo Bills apparently felt it was necessary to note that they would pay Damar Hamlin his full salary even though he finished the season on injury reserve.
You might want to let that sink in for a moment. Take two if necessary. It gives a whole new meaning to the saying “nothing is guaranteed except death and taxes.”
Might Lamar Jackson have pushed the envelope if his contract situation — guaranteed or not — had been resolved? Only one person knows, and it would be awfully presumptuous to think it would have been different than the one he made.
To even think otherwise is wading into water over my head — or over the skis on a very slippery slope.
At least that’s my thought from the safe confines of the bullpen.
Jim Henneman can be reached at JimH@pressboxonline.com
Photo Credit: Colin Murphy/PressBox