Playboy Interview: Pete Rozelle
October, 1973
For the past 13 years, the ever-profitable and ever-growing National Football League has been ruled adroitly by Pete Rozelle, an outwardly unobtrusive 47-year-old who has quietly managed to become the most powerful sports czar of the century. With a well-deserved reputation for being slicker than greasy kid stuff, he has not only upgraded the image of pro football but presided over the elevation of the sport to a financial plateau that would once have been considered unimaginable. Last season, the 26 N. F. L. teams played before an all-time high of more than 15,000,000 fans--and cut up a television pie of approximately $45,000,000. Since Rozelle's appointment as league commissioner, pro football has replaced baseball as our national pastime, and such is the sport's popularity that in many N. F. L. cities, the only way to acquire a season ticket is to have one willed to you.
When Rozelle took office in 1960, however, the pro grid scene was less than a bonanza for all concerned. Only 12 teams were then in existence, games were not automatically S.R.O. and some clubs were bringing in as little as $75,000 a season in TV rights. But as Rozelle himself is quick to point out, the sport had reached a threshold of accelerated growth and would undoubtedly have prospered with or without his leadership. Still, the N. F. L. has been faced with a number of crucial problems during his term as commissioner, and Rozelle has almost always seemed to have the right answer at the right time--whether the subject was expansion, merger with the American Football League, establishment of the Super Bowl or the decision to televise games on all three national networks.
But although both N. F. L. team owners and players are making more money than they ever did before he took over, the two warring factions seem to be appreciating Rozelle less and less. Says former All-Pro Bernie Parrish, "The number of half-truths and deceiving statements that Rozelle has handed the players over the years would be hard to count." And a recent poll conducted by the N.F.L. Players Association showed that more than 90 percent of active pros feel that Rozelle's decisions generally favor owners' interests; there's no denying that he has helped the average N. F. L. franchise multiply in value by 500 percent since he assumed office. But the owners, for their part, believe that the commissioner is becoming too independent for his own good. The New York Giants' Wellington Mara has likened Rozelle to an "iron hand in a velvet glove," and Dallas Cowboys' bank roller Clint Murchison claims, "He has milquetoast all over his high hand." Rozelle hardly relishes such talk, but he understands that it comes with the territory--a territory he had no real reason to expect would ever be his to oversee.
Nicknamed Pete at the age of five by an uncle, Alvin Ray Rozelle grew up in Lynwood, California, a Los Angeles suburb. After high school and a two-year Navy tour, he attended Compton Junior College and then the University of San Francisco, where he received his B. A. in 1950. While a student, Rozelle was the school's athletic-news director and, upon graduation, was hired as USF's assistant athletic director, a post he held for two years. In 1952, Rozelle became the Los Angeles Rams' publicity director (at a starting salary of $5500), but after three years, he quit to go into the more profitable field of corporate public relations. By 1957, he was back with the Rams--this time as general manager, at a salary of $25,000 a year. N. F. L. commissioner Bert Bell had recommended him for the job because he felt Rozelle could tactfully untangle a complicated and bitter ownership dispute then raging among Ram stockholders. Rozelle smoothed things out as expeditiously as advertised, but his over-all performance as L.A.'s general manager was hardly memorable. Although he made the club a good deal of money by introducing such souvenir junk as Ram sweat shirts, Ram cocktail glasses and Ram seat cushions, the team's scouting department somehow disappeared under his aegis, along with seven Ram players and a Ram draft choice in an exchange for over-the-hill Chicago Cardinal halfback Ollie Matson--one of the most spectacularly lousy trades in the annals of the N.F.L. But despite the fact that the team went nowhere when he was running it, the young G.M.'s obvious intelligence and sense of diplomacy impressed the N.F.L.'s fat cats, and Rozelle became the league's commissioner--at a five-figure salary--soon after the death of Bell.
At the height of pro football's popularity--if not of the man who runs it--we decided to send Lawrence Linderman to talk with Rozelle in Scottsdale, Arizona, where the commissioner and the league's team owners had gathered for a series of meetings. Reports Linderman: "Over the past few years, I've talked to several N. F. L. players and sports journalists about Rozelle, and I fully expected him to be the silken, almost dilettantish dude they portrayed. But the image in no way does justice to the man, and I think the same probably holds true of the way he photographs; the many pictures I've seen of Rozelle--maybe it's his chin--always gave me the impression of a man afraid to come out from behind his contract clauses. Well, Rozelle in person is a lot guttier--and earthier--than that. In fact, his speech is far more gravelly than befits a skillful media manipulator--which he is--and he could easily pass for one of those underworld gamblers he spends so much time publicly decrying. But he's also given to wearing white loafers, chainsmoking Vantage cigarettes and eating at restaurants like '21' and The Forum. And he's meticulously careful about what he says in public. As he sees it, any offhand criticism of an owner, player, official, weather condition or stadium hot dog might not be in the best interests of the league and, whatever he may feel personally, Rozelle almost always thinks first about the best interests of the league. He keeps his ego on an equally tight rein, and I personally think that's a shame, but maybe that's none of my business. It was my business, however, to delve into the commissioner's methods of handling the many problems currently plaguing pro football, so we began our conversation on that note."
[Q] Playboy: Although professional football was reached unprecedented heights of popularity under your direction, the sport has been marked in recent years by acrimony between players and team owners, and you've been accused of trying to suppress public awareness of such disagreements. Is that true?
[A] Rozelle: Yes, it is, because I think squabbling in public will eventually ruin football, and there's no doubt that it's hurting us already, Polls taken for the league by Louis Harris--polls as valid as any political polls--indicate that very clearly. Which comes as no great surprise to me, for I strongly believe that sports are an emotional outlet, just as television and motion pictures are. Considering what Americans have been confronted with in the last ten years, domestically and internationally, it's clear that we need emotional outlets; we have to have some peace from our problems. I'm not claiming that football is the nation's salvation in this area, but it's one of them, one little thing that apparently has captured the imagination of a large sector of our society. But when football can't be a relatively pure outlet, a fun thing, then it hurts itself. People are interested in pro football because it provides them with an emotional oasis; they don't want football to get involved in the same types of court cases, racial problems and legislative issues they encounter in the rest of American life. I'm not saying that the press is wrong to report any internal differences we have, but at the same time, I think it's our job to keep them from becoming public issues, for anything that detracts from the purely athletic aspects of the sport is bad for us. If we end up giving our game the same problematical coloration as the rest of the news, I don't think we'll be the popular escape valve we are now.
[Q] Playboy: Is it realistic to think you can convince the public that you're presiding over nothing more than a "fun" sport when the N. F. L. is involved in making daily business decisions about such troublesome matters as salary disputes, drug scandals, film and television rights, product endorsements and the like?
[A] Rozelle: I think it's a realistic goal, but we've certainly been unsuccessful in achieving it.
[Q] Playboy: One of the obvious reasons for that failure is your own standing with the players, who feel that your decisions generally favor team owners--and they feel that way primarily because the commissioner is hired solely by the owners. Would you like to see that changed?
[A] Rozelle: I don't know if 1300 players could really participate in the selection of a commissioner, and I've never given it a great deal of thought. I think it's a logical point they could make, but it's only an ademic one. Rather than saying that the commissioner is hired by the owners and therefore is subservient to them, you have to look at whether or not the players are getting a fair shake. I feel that the commissioner's role is to balance the interests of the sport's three elements: the fans, the players and the owners. If any one of these three has too much of a good thing, one or both of the others would almost inevitably suffer, and you'd have a breakdown in self-government. That hasn't happened, and I feel it's because I've balanced the interests of all three very conscientiously.
[Q] Playboy: Even if that's true, what's to prevent your eventual successor from being susceptible to owner domination, which is the rule rather than the exception among sports commissioners?
[A] Rozelle: Two things: a strong league constitution that's become even stronger since I inherited it, and a great deal of confidence that's been built into the office--also something I inherited when I succeeded the late Bert Bell in office. The N. F. L.'s expansion has also strengthened the commissioner's hand. During most of Bell's term of office, the league had 12 teams; there now are 26, which makes it much easier for a commissioner to operate. In the old days, when three or four clubs would get upset with Commissioner Bell--and I used to discuss this with him--it was a major problem. But with 26 teams, if four, five or six owners are upset with me, it doesn't bother me at all, other than personally; I don't like people to be angry at me. But that doesn't affect how I can operate the office, because the larger the number of teams, the less pressure you feel from any one of them. For those reasons, I feel that whoever follows me will inherit even more than I did from Bell.
[Q] Playboy: When you were hired by the N. F. L. in 1960, you were generally unknown and hadn't previously been considered a candidate for commissioner. How did you land the job?
[A] Rozelle: I got it strictly because of circumstance. Commissioner Bell had passed away in October 1959 and in January, the 12 N. F. L. clubs met in Miami to pick a successor. I was general manager of the Los Angeles Rams and I was there voting on behalf of the team along with the late Dan Reeves, who was then president of the Rams. For seven days, we sat in the Kenilworth Hotel trying to select a new commissioner, and after 22 ballots, we were still a long way from coming up with one. There just seemed to be irreconcilable differences of opinion as to both the type of commissioner wanted by the teams and the specific individuals who'd been proposed, and an impasse had developed. Finally, at the close of a frustrating afternoon session, Paul Brown of the Cleveland Browns and Wellington Mara of the New York Giants took me aside and said they were going to propose me. That surprised me, because at that point, I really didn't know either man.
[Q] Playboy: Why did they want you, then?
[A] Rozelle: I guess because I'd been so timid through all of the arguing that I hadn't antagonized them. That's the only thing I could figure out, because the proceedings had been highly emotional and every person considered for the job had really been cut up in discussion; I didn't want to be a party to that. Neither did I want to be an object of that, so I told Brown and Mara, "Look, I'm just a 33-year-old kid from Los Angeles, and thinking of me as commissioner just doesn't make any sense. I'd prefer not to be proposed." They told me to just keep quiet, because they were going to nominate me anyway, and they did, at the next session. I was asked to leave the room, because it might prove embarrassing to hear myself discussed. I was glad to get out, but when I did, a crowd of sportswriters was waiting right outside the door, so I went into the men's room--and stayed there. Every time someone walked in, I'd wash my hands until he left.
At last, someone came to tell me I'd been selected as commissioner, which gave rise to the line that I took the job with clean hands. I was then taken downstairs to a press conference, and the reporters were as surprised as I was. The first question was put to me by Louis Effort of The New York Times, who said, "Mr. Rozelle, would you consider yourself a compromise selection?" Everyone in the room broke up, including me. Of course, if I'd known what I'd be facing when I took the job, I don't think I'd have been laughing. I'd have been terrified.
[Q] Playboy: Why? Was the commissioner's job so different from what you'd envisioned?
[A] Rozelle: Actually, because I was hired so quickly, I didn't have time to envision anything. But I certainly didn't foresee some of the early problems I'd have to deal with, particularly the $10,000,000 antitrust suit that was filed against us by the American Football League shortly after I got back from Miami.
[Q] Playboy: What was the basis of that suit?
[A] Rozelle: The N. F. L. had expanded to include teams in Dallas and Minneapolis; the A. F. L. had also been considering having teams in those cities and claimed that our franchises in Dallas and Minneapolis were established just to kill off their league. They first went to the Justice Department, hoping it would file an action against us, and when that failed to happen, they filed a civil antitrust suit. That gave me my first real experience in dealing with the team owners. At least half of them made strong recommendations as to which attorney should defend the league, and in every case it turned out to be their own club lawyer. I decided to seek outside counsel instead, and did--and we won the case.
[Q] Playboy: One of your biggest assets as commissioner has been your surprising ability to persuade team owners--who aren't known for being the most tractable of men--to go along with you on key decisions affecting the N. F. L. How have you been able to manage that?
[A] Rozelle: I think the big thing I've had going for me in that regard has been the success of the league. I don't have quite as much control over things as people believe, so I frequently receive more credit than I deserve, and occasionally more criticism as well. Pro football was taking off when I became commissioner, and when a sport's successful and you're its chief executive officer, much of the credit flows to you and you develop a good track record. That gives you tremendous leverage when you sit down with people and patiently try to change their opinion on a given issue. In dealing with owners, I think the most important thing to do is keep them from painting themselves into a corner. When you need a couple more votes on something, you want to avoid a situation where individuals say, "I'll never do this!" When that happens, it takes a complete backdown for a man to come around to your side of an argument, which is difficult to accomplish, because the owners are all proud men. If that kind of situation doesn't arise, it's easier for the owners to change their minds. If they want to.
[Q] Playboy: Which N. F. L. team owners have been the most difficult for you to deal with?
[A] Rozelle:The most difficult owner for me was the late George Marshall of the Washington Redskins. He was a very colorful man, and he was also very, very strong-willed, a quality I suppose you'd have to say he was famous for. Marshall always made me feel like a boy when I was around him, and that was true even when there were serious issues between us.
[Q] Playboy: Did your run-ins with Marshall revolve around his policy of not hiring black football players?
[A] Rozelle: That's one of them. The Redskins, then the most southerly team in the league, had always been identified as a Dixie team. They'd never had a Negro player and it had become a kind of team tradition. That had always been their pattern, and Marshall personally found it difficult to make a change; at least that was the impression he gave me.
[Q] Playboy: Do you think he was a racist?
[A] Rozelle: I don't know what he was; I didn't get into that kind of discussion with him, because I wanted to change that situation, not irritate it. I can't tell you what was inside Marshall, except to say that his team had a particular tradition. He would explain it with one irreverent line: "The Redskins will have a black when Abe Saperstein has a white on the Harlem Globetrotters."
[Q] Playboy: How did you get Marshall to change his mind?
[A] Rozelle: I don't know that I did, because people like Edward Bennett Williams also talked to him about it. Ed was a close friend of his and was doing legal work for Marshall and eventually he got ownership in the club. The fact that the Redskins didn't hire black players embarrassed Ed, made absolutely no sense to him, and I know he talked to Marshall about it. In the discussions I had with Marshall, I softly tried to point out that he was creating a problem for the league and, in a practical way, a problem for the Redskins as well, who weren't successful during that period, because they were limiting the talent on their team. Our talks were oblique and I only made suggestions to him, because I didn't want him to get his back up and say, "This is my football team and I'll run it any way I damn well please." Quietly, we were able to get that policy changed.
[Q] Playboy: Although those Redskin teams were the most blatant examples of racism in modern pro football, many black players feel that Jim Crow is still alive in the N. F. L. One of their main charges is that N. F. L. teams practice "stacking," assigning blacks in disproportionate numbers to certain positions, such as running back, and excluding them from playing other positions, such as quarterback.
[A] Rozelle: The charge of stacking has no validity and, as far as black quarterbacks are concerned, the N. F. L. has had more than many people realize. George Taliaferro was primarily a running back, but he played some quarterback for the New York Yanks and Baltimore Colts in the early Fifties. Willie Thrower was with the Bears in 1953, and Charley Brackins with Green Bay in 1955; Marlin Briscoe started five games with Denver in 1968; Jim Harris started the '69 season as Buffalo's regular quarterback; John Walton played in pre-season games for the Rams last year; Dave Lewis, primarily a punter, has played quarterback for Cincinnati; Joe Gilliam was a backup quarterback for Pittsburgh last year; and Karl Douglas was given a good trial as the Colts' quarterback in 1971 -- 1972. My own conclusion on the subject of black quarterbacks is this: The black N. F. L. quarterbacks I've mentioned came, for the most part, from small black colleges, where they didn't face major college game competition. Also, it's likely that the colleges they played for didn't have the money to hire large coaching staffs, and so they weren't taught to play the position as completely as quarterbacks at major colleges. These are the basic reasons, and I think anything to the contrary is fallacious.
[Q] Playboy: Is the charge of stacking really all that fallacious when you consider that there's never been a black starting center in the N. F. L.?
[A] Rozelle: I can't honestly see that a center's function is that much different from other positions on the line, so I really can't explain it. I'd like to talk to more people about it. But I do know that black publications report that close to 40 percent of the league's players last year were black, which is very high, I think, in comparison to the black percentage of the national population.
[Q] Playboy: We're not disputing the fact that there are a great many black players in the N. F. L.; we're talking about what appears to be racial exclusion at the positions of quarterback and center, and this is also true at middle linebacker.
[A] Rozelle: Actually, middle linebacker might be similar to quarterback in that small-college coaching staffs--which teach well below the pro level--have put black athletes at a disadvantage.
[Q] Playboy: If that's the case, why wouldn't black, wide receivers, tackles and running backs be similarly handicapped?
[A] Rozelle: I think that a quarterback and a linebacker requite more education in technical and mental skills than any other positions. In a small-college situation, players just won't get the football education they need to make the N.F.L., just as a student at a smaller-staffed school isn't going to get the same education that a black or a white student will get at a university that has more money to spend on teachers.
[Q] Playboy: Do you think all this stems from the fact that, until recently, most major colleges excluded blacks from playing certain positions?
[A] Rozelle: I don't know enough about the colleges to comment on that. But I would think there's no reason for stacking. After all, you can only keep so many players, and if you're stacking at a single position, someone's going to have to go--and then a rival team can end up with an outstanding football player. And no coach wants that. If you've got a good football player, you want to use him.
[Q] Playboy: Surely you don't think such racial egalitarianism has been prevalent in certain college conferences until recently--or do you?
[A] Rozelle: The important thing is that today blacks are getting the opportunity to play for the major Northern and southern schools, and they're taking advantage of that, rather than attending the small black colleges to which, for the most part, they were historically limited. And I think this is going to be helpful in developing black quarterbacks and linebackers.
[Q] Playboy: Another grievance among black players in the N.F.L. is their conviction that they're paid less than white players. Are they right?
[A] Rozelle: We've never really done a study on it, but forgetting quarterbacks--which you have to do to get a good idea of average N.F.L. salaries--I believe that much more than 40 percent of the 50 best-paid players in the league are black, so by that measurement, there's no complaint to be made. One problem, perhaps, is that more blacks than whites come into the league as free agents, because they've played for small, out-of-the-way schools. In those cases, the initial contract will be smaller than one given to a drafted player; but when a free agent proves himself, he moves up the payroll rather quickly. Although there's an undercurrent of suspicion on this matter, I don't see it as a major problem. If it were, I assure you that the Players Association, which is a very intelligent and aggressive organizations, would be raising the question with the owners or with me. It hasn't been raised. And on a very practical level, the owners wouldn't even want that question to come up, because it would lead to dissension on a club, which can seriously interfere with a team's chances of winning.
[Q] Playboy: The late Vince Lombardi summed up what many sports critics feel is the N.F.L.'s obsession with victory when he said, "Winning isn't everything, it's the only thing." Do you feel pro foot ball attaches too much importance to winning?
[A] Rozelle: No. But I haven't met a player or a coach whose goal isn't to win the Super Bowl. The same holds true for team owners, especially for those who--like Lamar Hunt, Bill Ford and Clint Murchison--are in football as an avocation, not as a way to make their livelihood: for them, the only thing they want out of it is a Super Bowl victory. That doesn't mean they don't like to make money on their football teams, only that their primary concern is in winning a champion ship. And I see nothing wrong in that.
[Q] Playboy: In his new book, North Dallas 40, former Cowboy receiver Peter Gent depicts N.F.L. club owners as little more than right-wing zealots who try to enforce martial discipline, restraint and conformity on their players. Do you take issue with that description?
[A] Rozelle: Yes, I do, because as a group, team owners just don't exert much influence on individual players. In fact, an awful lot of N.F.L. club owners have practically no influence on their players at all, simply because they're not full-time working owners. Men like Ralph Wilson in Buffalo, Gerry and Alan Phipps in Denver, Art Rooney in Pittsburgh, Gene Klein in San Diego, Max Winter in Minnesota, Bill Ford in Detroit, John Mecom, Jr., in New Orleans and Phil Iselin of the New York Jets don't take very active roles in running their clubs. And even Dallas' Glint Murchison completely delegates day-to-day affairs of the Cowboys to his club president, Tex Schramm. Certainly, at least one club owner is the Philosophical antithesis of the description you've given me: Edward Bennett Williams in Washington is an attorney deeply committed to promoting individual rights.
[Q] Playboy: If most team owners aren't authoritarian and regimental, and if they play such limited roles in running their teams, why is it that so many N.F.L. players--and ex-players such as Dave Meggyesy, Bernie Parrish and Johnny Sample--accuse them of black-listing outstanding but outspokenly dissident athletes?
[A] Rozelle: There's never been anything resembling black-listing in the N.F.L., at least not since I've been commissioner. And I'm close enough to the clubs to know. Ability is the key to a player's career in the N.F.L., and any idea that black-listing exists is totally erroneous. There are always players who'll have trouble with their clubs, and yet they're either traded to another team or, if put on waivers, they find another coach willing to take a chance with them, often feeling the player involved hasn't been handled right. You may see discontented ballplayers moving around, but if they've got ability, they find a job.
[Q] Playboy: Then why--as Bernie Parrish points out in They Call It a Game--was Walter Beach, an excellent Cleveland defensive back, unable to find employment in the league after he clashed with Browns owner Art Modell?
[A] Rozelle: Black-listing had nothing to do with it, and neither did his relationship with Modell. Beach was about 33 and had played with four or five football teams before finding a home with the Browns, where he had a fine career. But by 1967, when the incident you're speaking of took place, the Browns coaching staff felt that Beach was no longer the defensive back he'd been. I want to remind you that defensive backs can go downhill in a year very easily, because it's an extremely demanding position. There's no mystery why Beach wasn't picked up by another team after he was released on waivers by the Browns: his career was at an end. Just last summer, a Federal judge dismissed a case Beach brought on this very subject.
As far as the Parrish and the Meggyest books are concerned, I felt that Meggyesy was being his own brand of idealist and I disagreed with many of idealist and I disagreed with many of his views. But I was much more concerned with the Parrish book, because it was filled with innuendo and charges about pro football--such as black-listing--that he wanted to be true but that he couldn't back up with fact. I'm not asking anyone to accept my word that both their books were filled with distortions and empty charges; Meggyesy and Parrish presennted any evidence they had to a grand jury in Cleveland and nothing happened as a result. In fact, to the best of my knowledge, everyone who's ever openly criticized any aspect of the N.F.L. was brought before that grad jury, which was working on a criminal indictment against the league. The grand jury subpoenaed an incredible number of records from each of the 26 N.F.L. teams--records relating to every facet of our operation. We had to sit back and take it for 18 months as all our critics walked into that grand-jury room and then held press conferences on the courthouse steps.
[Q] Playboy: Why do you say you had to take it? Couldn't you have responded to the charges as they were made?
[A] Rozelle: That wasn't done because our attorneys didn't feel it was appropriate to publicly discuss a pending court action against us.
[Q] Playboy: You gave the impression at the time that your silence was judicially imposed. At any rate, what do you consider the main issues that were involved in the grand jury's investigation?
[A] Rozelle: It wasn't a question of a few specific issues; they went into discrimination, player contracts, the option clause, the Players Association, television--just about everything they could think of. And after a year and a half, the indictment was dismissed--in May '72--and nothing more has been heard of it. But no one in the Government ever came out and said, "We've looked into this thoroughly and we find no cause for action against the N.F.L." So we came out with a statement; at a press conference, I noted that the grand jury had been dismissed and that, in our opinion, nothing had come of its investigation. I had to gamble a little in saying that, because no one had officially cleared us--and this is what I felt was so wrong. I should also point out that we were never told why we were being investigated. Our attorneys found that rather strange, but other than defending ourselves against the various issues raised, there was no other action we could take.
[Q] Playboy: One of the other issues discussed at those hearings was the N.F.L.'s salary structure. Most players testified that they were underpaid in relation to team profits. Is that still a bone of contention between players and team owners?
[A] Rozelle: Yes, it is. I think the answer to player salary disputes is simply to see if labor is getting a fair shake. During the negotiations that preceded the last N.F.L. labor contract, the players and owners jointly commissioned the Arthur Andersen accounting firm to survey the individual club finances of all the league's teams. After first standardizing the clubs' various accounting procedures, information was developed regarding profits and other significant financial factors. It turned out that the average pretax team profit was $452,000. The players didn't want to accept that figure--at least their leadership didn't--because it meant there wasn't that much money available for them to ask for. In effect, they were saying that even though the accounting firm they'd helped hire had looked into the matter, the owners were somehow still able to cover up their profits.
[Q] Playboy: That figure of $452,000 was for the 1969 season. Since then, attendance, ticket prices, television revenues and even stadium seating capacities have increased substantially, so average N.F.L. team profits should be much higher by now. In fact, couldn't they easily be twice or three times the 1969 figure?
[A] Rozelle: I honestly don't know. I do know that income's gone up; but so have expenses. In what proportion to each other, I can't say.
[Q] Playboy: Not even to the extent of being able to give us a general indication of N.F.L. profit pictures?
[A] Rozelle: I don't have the profit pictures of the clubs, except for those required by the SEC to make annual public disclosures. Green Bay, for example, showed a 1972 net income of $480,203 and the Patriots, $545,313. But the clubs don't send yearly profit statements to me. I might get a glance at a bottom-line figure of what some club did the previous year, but in general, I'm not aware of clubs' specific financial conditions.
[Q] Playboy: That's hard to believe. But don't you think you should be?
[A] Rozelle: I don't think I have an obligation to ascertain the financial picture.
[Q] Playboy: Then how can you have any credibility when you say that the players are wrong in feeling that there's financial inequity between themselves and team owners?
[A] Rozelle: Based on what I've heard, I'd have to say I have a general impression that there is much more equity involved than the players realize. I think their charges are due to human nature; the player sees a filled stadium. If he saw a supermarket filled every time it was open, he'd feel it was doing extremely well.
[Q] Playboy: And he'd probably be right. You say you have a "general impression" of the N.F.L.'s finances; doesn't the nature of your job obligate you to know exactly what the league's finances are?
[A] Rozelle: I think I have enough of an impression to guide me in the things I control--and I don't run the labor relations between the players and the owners, so my feelings are really immaterial there. The commissioner's job in such matters is only to get the players and the owners together for talks. I know it appears I'm being an advocate for the owners when I say there's more equity there than the players realize, but that's precisely the reason I suggest an independent financial study of the N.F.L. be done by an appropriate body both sides would respect and believe. I've had discussions on this with the owners, and I think such a study would benefit them as well as the players and the public, because it would eliminate suspicion. But we certainly won't use another accounting firm, because its findings would be suspect, as was proved by the jointly sponsored '69 financial study.
[Q] Playboy: Whom would you like to see conduct such a study?
[A] Rozelle: A joint House-Senate committee, because then no one would dispute the findings. Everyone keeps saying that the N.F.L. won't open its books, but I've told the owners they're going to have to, and they've said they will. Congress is talking about changing various aspects of pro football, so I'd like to see its members go directly to the financial heart of the league to discover whether or not our self-government is working. Before Congress moves to change any part of the N. F.L., it should first investigate us thoroughly.
[Q] Playboy: What has Congress indicated it wants to change?
[A] Rozelle: Several things, but I would think the most publicized one would be our policy of television blackouts of home games.
[Q] Playboy: Not only are Congressmen interested in changing that but the White House itself last season put pressure on the N.F.L. to rescind that policy during the play-off games. How was that pressure applied?
[A] Rozelle: I was in Florida just before the play-offs started, when I got a message that Richard Kleindienst, who was then Attorney General, had tried to reach me. I called him back and he told me of the President's wishes on lifting the TV blackout, and so I asked to meet with Kleindienst to discuss it. He was at first reluctant, but then agreed to it, and I flew into Washington that afternoon. He explained to me that if we didn't voluntarily change our TV policy for the playoff games, the Administration would issue a statement in support of legislation for lifting the blackout. Kleindienst also told me that if we didn't go ahead and televise the play-off games in home cities, his office would review our antitrust exemptions.
[Q] Playboy: How much concern did that cause you?
[A] Rozelle: Well, I wasn't overly worried about the antitrust part of it, because the N.F.L. has only two limited exemptions. The first was passed in 1961 and enables pro football and all other team sports to sell TV rights in a package, as opposed to having individual teams selling rights separately and occasionally competing with themselves. Our other antitrust exemption was passed in 1966, after I announced our intention of merging the A.F.L. and the N.F.L. We successfully sought a special bill that would exempt us from any litigation based upon the fact that the A.F.L. had become part of the N. F.L. Without that, we couldn't have gone ahead with the merger, because the potential for litigation would have been too extreme. For example, we could have been sued by every college player coming up in the draft who, instead of being drafted by two leagues, would now be drafted by only one. Those two bills are our only antitrust exemptions and because they're extremely limited ones, I wasn't terribly concerned about the Attorney General reviewing them. I was far more worried about our TV-blackout policy being challenged by the Administration.
[Q] Playboy: Did you feel that Kleindienst's arm-twisting was uncalled for?
[A] Rozelle: I was just very sorry that the Administration hadn't first given us an opportunity to review for it the ramifications of changing our TV procedures. Essentially, the Administration wants us to adopt a rule stating that if a play-off game is sold out by Friday, we'll televise it in the home city on Sunday. This is fairly similar to a bill introduced by Senator John Pastore, who wants us to experiment like that during the regular season. But even given the guarantee of a soldout game, ending the local blackout will seriously hurt our sport.
[Q] Playboy: In what way?
[A] Rozelle: Let me give you a rather painful case in point: Our top attraction, the Super Bowl, was played this year in 80-degree weather in Los Angeles, and it was televised locally. It turned out that nine percent of the ticket buyers--who'd paid $130,000 for seats to the Super Bowl--didn't go to the game. That was a shock to us.
[Q] Playboy: Still, you had your sellout, plus additional TV money through coverage of the Los Angeles market, so what's the problem?
[A] Rozelle: If we have a well-publicized policy of televising home games provided they're sold out, people are eventually going to wait to purchase tickets. If people think there's a chance of watching from the comfort of their own living room, they'll wait until Friday to buy their tickets, and in no time at all, our attendance will suffer. In 1950, the Los Angeles Rams made a deal with Admiral television; their home games were put on local TV and the agreement was based on the attendance of the previous year. Attendance went way down that year--even though the Rams won their conference championship--and, although there obviously weren't that many TV sets in L.A. then, the Admiral people wound up paying them a tremendous amount of money because of the drop-off in attendance. That was one of the things that convinced Commissioner Bell and the other club owners that you just shouldn't give away what you're trying to sell.
[Q] Playboy: Could the N.F.L. operate profitably if its only source of income were TV revenue?
[A] Rozelle: Not at all. Last year, each of the 26 teams received something like $1,500,000 apiece from the networks, which is far below the annual cost of running a franchise. Although TV revenues will increase, they won't increase as dramatically as they have in the past. Furthermore, if pro football suddenly becomes a studio show--in the sense that there are only 10,000 to 15,000 people in the stadiums--it's no longer very important to watch a pro game anymore. It's crowd psychology; you can see the same great football game sitting alone in the Coliseum, but it's not going to have the same impact on you as it would if you were part of a crowd of 90,000 people. Really, I think the TV blackout is one of the main reasons for the popularity of professional football. I didn't begin the blackout--it was there before I became commissioner--but it's been an intelligent policy and if we change it, I strongly feel that our popularity will decrease.
[Q] Playboy: After you told all this to Kleindienst, were there any further Administration pressures put on you?
[A] Rozelle: No, we merely had more discussions. But I was extremely surprised that something like the N.F.L.'s TV policy could be an issue at that level of Government.
[Q] Playboy: Do you think it should be that big an issue?
[A] Rozelle: No, I don't. Football is a game; it should be something to enjoy and to keep in the proper perspective. All it does is temporarily keep our minds off the serious problems of the day.
[Q] Playboy: Does it follow that if American society gets healthier, pro football will be less important--and less successful?
[A] Rozelle: I suppose that's possible. I've been told that during that Depression, most forms of entertainment did very well, apparently because people felt the need to escape their troubles. That's an interesting area for conjecture, but speaking realistically, the one thing that would surely drag us down in a hurry would be a change in our TV-blackout policy.
[Q] Playboy: If that policy isn't changed, how much longer do you think pro football can continue to grow?
[A] Rozelle: I really don't know. I'd be satisfied--and I don't think this is defeatism--to see us just hold what we have with minimal growth. I think it would be extremely difficult to accelerate much more, for there's been great growth in the last 20 years.
[Q] Playboy: Do you see any evidence of leveling off in popularity?
[A] Rozelle: On a television-rating basis, yes, there were indications of it this past year. ABC's ratings were about the same as they had been in '71, and although NBC was up, CBS went down fractionally. There was an over-all gain in our TV ratings, but I would have to say that a leveling-off factor was clearly indicated.
[Q] Playboy: Are you at all worried that the public may be starting to get its fill of football?
[A] Rozelle: The only clear barometers by which we can judge the question of overexposure are TV ratings and attendance, both of which were up last year. Another measurement we use is the public-opinion poll, which we take periodically. A Harris Poll we took last year showed that 71 percent of the public feels our TV coverage is about right. I feel it's about right myself, so I don't see us changing our present TV pattern. Thus, we won't be televising games on week nights other than Monday and, when further expansion takes place--ideally, we'd like to have 32 teams, because then we'd have four four-team divisions in each conference--we won't be televising more games. For example, rather than showing an Oakland-Los Angeles game in, say, Seattle, we'd just carry the Seattle team's game. That doesn't mean, incidentally, that Seattle has an inside track on an N. F. L. franchise. I have to mention that or all the cities hoping for a franchise--and the list is extensive--will get upset with me.
[Q] Playboy: One thing you haven't mentioned is the N. F. L.'s possible use of pay TV. It's been speculated that within the next few years, the Super Bowl will become a closed-circuit theater--TV attraction. Will it?
[A] Rozelle: That's not being considered, and we have no plans even to start thinking seriously about it. But I wouldn't preclude anything in perpetuity; if we were back in 1940 and I was being asked if we'd be only on radio forever, I'd probably be saying yes. We don't know what the future holds, but basically, we're committed to free television. Our only possible use of pay TV would be some kind of cable arrangement that will be considered if and when CATV becomes an accepted mass-communications medium. By that, I mean that if the great majority of the nation's television sets were wired up for cable TV, we'd give some consideration to televising home games on CATV. At that point, however, we'd again have to start weighing what the effects would be on stadium attendance. But it's going to be a while before we're confronted with that choice: By 1980, I'm told that only about 30 percent of the country will be wired for CATV. And I can't see what would compel us seven years from now to shift our policy to reach only 30 percent of the nation.
[Q] Playboy: What makes you think that in seven years the television audience won't have wearied of football the same way it's done with boxing and baseball?
[A] Rozelle: I can't honestly answer that, because TV's done that to other forms of entertainment as well as to sports. I remember that when quiz shows were at their peak, everyone was home watching The $64,000 Question and most people couldn't conceive that those shows wouldn't be there forever. So it's very possible the same thing could happen to us.
[Q] Playboy: Even if it declines, why do you think the sport has been able to achieve the level of popularity it now enjoys?
[A] Rozelle: I think it's based on several things. The game's fast-paced, complex action is more in keeping with our times than other forms of entertainment. I believe that the TV exposure we've gotten and our policies in regard to TV have taken the game to an ever-increasing number of people, just as expansion and merger have, and that's made pro football national in scope. The excellence of our TV coverage itself has been a factor; such things as instant replay have made millions of TV fans for us, and much of this audience then wants to go out and see games in person. I also think that the league's competitive balance has been very important, because in sports, people want to see a contest. Last season, nearly 40 percent of our games were decided by seven points or less. So N. F. L. football is good competitive entertainment, and all these things help explain its increased popularity.
[Q] Playboy: Since you haven't mentioned it, are we correct in assuming you disagree with the idea that football's popularity is predicated on its violence?
[A] Rozelle: Well, I think there's violence in football, but it's a disciplined form of violence rather than open, undisciplined violence. But if you're going to try to find a word that describes professional football, action is a much better choice than violence. When you sit in the stands of a huge football stadium, I don't think you can be intrigued--as you might be on the side lines--by the sport's physical contact. I really don't think that, in a stadium or watching a game on TV, the steady feeling you get is of violence. If you're silting at the top of the Los Angeles Coliseum, you can't hear the contact, as you can down on the field or at ringside at a boxing match. What you're left with is a sense of flow, of movement--of action. To me, the idea that football's popularity is based on violence seems completely wrong.
[Q] Playboy: Violence, however, is responsible for football's high incidence of game injuries. What preventive steps, if any, are you taking to cut down on them?
[A] Rozelle: I don't think we can control injuries other than the way we're doing it--by working with the sporting-goods companies and by conducting studies. For instance, the Stanford Research Institute is now studying such factors as the number of N. F. L. injuries incurred on baseball infields--where the hard surfaces apparently are a hazard--and the entire matter of injuries on artificial turf versus natural turf.
[Q] Playboy: When will that study be finished?
[A] Rozelle: It's ongoing, but we have some initial results. The entire injury history of the N. F. L.'s past three years has been fed to them, and we're continuing with more detailed research this season.
[Q] Playboy: If they discover that artificial turf is a significant factor in causing severe injuries, will you ban artificial turf from N. F. L. stadiums?
[A] Rozelle: The first progress reports indicate that there may, indeed, be more injuries on artificial turf, but not serious injuries--mostly abrasions and that sort of thing. The findings aren't yet conclusive, but even if they turn out to be, banning artificial turf would present a serious problem. About half our 26 teams play on artificial turf, and the football teams don't necessarily control the choice of turf; the stadiums do. Many stadium groups use artificial turf because it allows them to hold as many events as they want to, thus enabling them to amortize the cost of the stadium as quickly as possible. Artificial turf is more economical in the sense that it can guarantee stadium usability. If you have adverse weather, you can still hold an event one day and another the next day; but it's hard--in fact, it's impossible--to convert a sea of mud into a baseball diamond overnight. All of this is to say that it would be extremely difficult, and perhaps impossible, to walk into somebody's stadium and say, "Tear up your artificial surface." If the study shows that some artificial surfaces produce a higher incidence of injuries than natural turf, I'd just hope that the improvement in artificial surfaces--as we get into new generations of them--would eliminate that problem.
[Q] Playboy: Pro football injuries have been a source of controversy for another reason; many of the sport's critics contend that players shouldn't be allowed to compete while they're handicapped by such serious injuries as broken bones.
[A] Rozelle: I agree that seriously injured players shouldn't be playing, and for the most part, I don't think they are. The one thing we've tried to stress is the upgrading of the teams' medical departments. We want each club to have a very competent physician who has authority over the coach and everybody else as to whether or not a player can play. He's got to make the decision. I think that in the last five or six years, we've seen a great improvement in the physical examinations that are given, in medical treatment generally and in decisions as to whether an injured player can or can't play. Example: This year, a player--whom I don't care to name--was a first-round N.F.L. draft choice. He'd performed for four years in college, but when he was given a thorough team physical examination after this year's draft, a decision was made that he shouldn't be in football, because of a heart condition. The club that had selected him thought it had lost a first-round choice. Further examination cleared him, but if it hadn't, the team was prepared to accept the initial results.
[Q] Playboy: What are the responsibilities of the N.F.L. regarding player injuries?
[A] Rozelle: They're great. First of all, I want to say that the owners take a great personal interest in the players; they become part of their families in many cases. Not all, but most of the owners are close to the players. They have a strong emotional interest in the players' physical well-being and, beyond that, a heavy practical one: The 26 clubs pay out in excess of $5,000,000 a year in medical payments and in salary to injured players who don't perform for all or part of the season. An N. F. L. player injured in training camp or in pre-season or regular-season games receives all the money called for in his contract, plus all medical expenses until he's well. I really believe that our league now has a highly sophisticated medical program.
[Q] Playboy: Unfortunately, that sophistication is often used to get an injured player ready for a game in situations where, under less expert medical care, he wouldn't be allowed--or even be able--to play.
[A] Rozelle: The team physician obviously understands medicine and also understands football. He's unique in that way and his decision--as told to him by the club owners--must be made keeping the player's best interests at heart, and not the coach's or his teammates'. If he says that a particular injury won't restrict a player to the extent that he can't contribute and, more importantly, that no further harm will result from allowing the injured man to compete, well, he's the guy who has to answer for it if something serious should occur.
[Q] Playboy: Don't you think the N. F. L. commissioner should at least set some limits as to how much a man may be injured and still be allowed to play?
[A] Rozelle: As a nonmedical man, I don't see how I could. Medical science isn't so precise about injuries that I, as a layman, could determine which injuries you can be allowed to play with and which you can't play with.
[Q] Playboy: To alleviate the pain of injuries, players are injected--and now even sprayed--with painkillers. Do you think there's any inconsistency between condoning that and publicly bemoaning players' use of pep pills?
[A] Rozelle: If you're talking about the use of painkillers for a minor injury, I really have to defer--again--to competent physicians. But I'm very opposed to the use of amphetamines, which was much more common in the N. F. L. several years ago than it is today. Now I think there's a greater awareness of their dangers not only in football but also in Government, because it wasn't until two or three years ago that the Food and Drug Administration and Congressional committees got on the problem.
[Q] Playboy: As we go to press, reports are circulating about a drug scandal that will implicate at least four N. F. L. players said to be involved in smuggling and/or selling large amounts of cocaine and hashish. How seriously do the arrests of N. F. L. players on drug charges affect the sport?
[A] Rozelle: First, I want to note that we've been in touch with the FBI and other agencies and we're confident that the reports aren't true. But I also have to point out that there are hundreds of thousands of people under investigation at any given time, and if four are professional football players, well, that's the price we pay for being in public life. As to the effect of actual arrests: When a player is picked up for possession of pot or other drugs, I frankly don't like getting letters from fathers who complain that the N. F. L. comes into their living rooms and to their kids, who idolize the particular player who's been arrested. Obviously, we have players who take drugs, and it would be silly for me to deny it. Our players come out of college, where drug use is particularly heavy. Football is no different from the rest of our society, but we hope to minimize drug use in the N. F. L., because if a player gets heavily into drugs, it presents two problems: It's difficult for him to play football and it's bad for our image.
[Q] Playboy: Some members of the sports press have suggested that players convicted on drug charges should be banned from the N. F. L. Do you feel that athletes should be treated differently from, say, executives in this regard?
[A] Rozelle: I go both ways on that. First, I'll tell you what I've told players: I think they have to realize there is a double standard. You see, the income and other benefits that accrue to a sport and everyone in it come directly from the public, so I don't think a player can live his life with the freedom of someone not in the public eye. When you're dependent on the mass public for support, when you've got to bring in as many people as you can to be television viewers, ticket buyers and radio listeners, I don't think you can afford to ignore their feelings on the issue of drugs. So because our standing with the public is so very important to us, I say yes, there has to be a double standard.
But I said I go both ways on the question, and here's the other half: I don't feel we can have automatic suspensions for drug use. Our attorneys investigated the drug question for more than six months when we began developing our drug program, and they encountered a number of serious problems involved in setting up automatic sanctions such as suspension. One of the most important was a medical problem; if a player goes on the operating table and the surgeon doesn't have complete knowledge of every drug he's been taking, the player can die from anesthesia. If you were to institute automatic suspension for drug use, players wouldn't be candid with team doctors about their drug habits--and the very last thing we want to see is an accidental death.
The problem is similar to what the Armed Services once encountered with both venereal disease and drugs. When both those things carried automatic sanctions, they weren't reported by GIs, and not only did the problems spread but individual cases were invariably more serious than they should have been, which caused the military to alter its policy. So I think it's understandable why we won't automatically suspend players we find using drugs. We will, however, continue to educate them about the harmful effects of drugs through the team doctors and the material we provide.
[Q] Playboy: What about players who might prove to be chronic drug users? How do you deal with them?
[A] Rozelle: Again, automatic suspension isn't the answer, but I'll qualify that to the extent of saying that if I see a continuing drug problem with a player, it's very possible he could be suspended. Not black-listed or quietly put out of the league--suspended. When a player has such a problem, we look into it thoroughly. We talk to the judge and the probation officer and I talk to the player. I've told such players, "Look, it's a problem for this office, it's a problem for your team and it's a problem for you. If you're going to keep getting the benefits from our sport, let's not have a repeat of this." I'm not saying suspension couldn't result from a drug arrest, but if a judge and a probation officer tell me a man's best chance for rehabilitation lies in allowing him to do what he's best suited for--in this case, playing football--that's a strong persuading factor with me. The mail from angry fathers bothers me, but I also realize that a problem can develop with anyone, and if one of the best ways to help the individual correct it is to allow him to participate in pro football, that judgment will be made. But, again, I'm not ruling out suspension in the best interests of the league.
[Q] Playboy: Although this is a far less serious matter than the subject of drugs, a number of N. F. L. coaches still won't allow their players to have long hair. How do you feel about it?
[A] Rozelle: I would prefer better grooming rather than leaning toward total freedom.
[Q] Playboy: Why?
[A] Rozelle: Because, again, I think we have to appeal to as much of the public as possible to continue the success of the sport. And I know how most fathers--rightly or wrongly--feel about their kid's grooming.
[Q] Playboy: But aren't you, in a sense, giving those fathers direction about how they should view young men with long hair?
[A] Rozelle: That's going to an extreme. I didn't say I wanted a row of 40 crewcuts on N. F. L. teams, because I think latitude has to be given to an individual. I just feel that extremes should be avoided.
[Q] Playboy: If that's true, why have you allowed so much militarism to creep into N. F. L. half-time pageants, a trend that has resulted not only in public debate but also in formations of Air Force jets flying over football stadiums?
[A] Rozelle: The last flyover we had was at the 1972 Super Bowl, and it was clearly a P. O. W. tribute, which everyone around the country was more or less for. There were no flyovers this year. You know, it's tougher than hell in a 90,000-seat stadium with TV cameras around to just present a harmonica player down on the field. Half-time shows have had patriotic motifs because they have scope and they're fairly traditional. Unfortunately, a lot of people read things into half-time shows, and in political ways. The conservatives say, "That's the right thing to show," and the liberals say, "That's terrible, you should have antiwar demonstrations at half time." Well, they both read too much into it. We try to put on a pageant and that's all. It's really a kind of national tragedy; the war in Vietnam and the divided feelings about it made both the flag and the national anthem political. It hasn't been our intent to be political and we certainly don't want to become a cause of political controversy among our fans.
[Q] Playboy: Regardless of their political views, N. F. L. fans seem united in their feeling that pro football is rapidly becoming a sport only the affluent can afford to attend regularly. Does that concern you?
[A] Rozelle: To a certain extent it does, yet we're fortunate, in a sense, that our teams play only a small number of games each year; season tickets to all other sports cost much more money, because many more games are played during the hockey, basketball and baseball seasons. While pro football may be considered expensive on a per-event basis, it still takes only $50 to $75 to buy a season ticket. And if they care enough about football, most people in the country--regardless of income bracket--can come up with that kind of money. But to go to the basic question: Yes, increased ticket prices bother me. We don't want to price ourselves out of reach of people who like football, yet continuing inflation has caused team managements to feel forced to raise ticket prices. I personally hope, however, that our prices will reach a period of stability.
[Q] Playboy: Another complaint by football fans concerns the growing number of N. F. L. teams that tack the cost of exhibition-game seats onto season-ticket prices. Why has this been instituted?
[A] Rozelle: About half the clubs in the N. F. L. have such a ticket plan, and it's because they felt it was a better alternative to meet spiraling costs than if they charged astronomical prices to attend regular-season games. They felt that by obligating the purchaser to buy tickets for pre-season games, they'd be able to provide additional entertainment while, at the same time, keeping their regular-season prices at a reasonable level. There's been litigation over it, and so far, the litigation has gone with the clubs.
[Q] Playboy: We're not questioning the legality of such a policy, because if football-team owners want to charge $50 to see a game, it seems to us they have the right to; and fans have a right not to pay the price. We're talking about coercion. Is it right to, in effect, force fans to attend preseason games in order to attend regular-season games?
[A] Rozelle: It may have been economically necessary. But this goes back to the teams' finances and, again, I have to tell you that they don't send me financial statements.
[Q] Playboy: By not shedding any new light on the subject of N. F. L. finances, aren't you adding to the suspicions you've said already exist among players and fans?
[A] Rozelle: Once more I'll tell you that those are the reasons I want to have an independent financial study made and that it has to be a Congressional study, in view of Congressional talk about regulating us.
[Q] Playboy: You've already noted that many members of Congress want to revise the N. F. L.'s TV policy. Are there any other aspects of pro football they're interested in changing?
[A] Rozelle: There's been some talk of changing our option arrangements and our player draft, both of which are necessary to preserve the league's competitive balance. If we had a situation where the athletes were free agents, the richest owners in the league would simply buy up the N. F. L.'s best players and we'd wind up like the old All-America Conference, which had the Cleveland Browns beating everyone so easily that fans both at home and on the road stopped going to their games. So we say that upon expiration of a player's contract, there's a one-year option period, and unless he agrees to a new contract during that time, he becomes a free agent the following May first and can then sign with any club he wants to. When he does, however, his new team is obligated to negotiate a fair compensation in players and/or draft choices with the club he's left. If the two front offices can't agree on what's fair, then both must accept the judgment of the commissioner as to the settlement. In that way, players aren't bound to teams they don't wish to play for; yet, at the same time, the competitive ability of the teams they left isn't necessarily impaired.
We think our player draft is also responsible for keeping N. F. L. teams continuously competitive; without it, there's no way Don Shula and the Miami Dolphins could have won a Super Bowl. If we ever got to the point where baseball was several year ago, when the Yankees completely dominated the sport, pro football wouldn't be at all healthy. We need a cycle, with our down clubs able to come up, and the draft ensures that by allowing teams to select the best graduating college players in inverse order of their standings during the previous pro season. In other words, the N. F. L. team with the worst record picks first each year and the team with the best record picks last. This has consistently allowed the weaker teams to grow into formidable clubs.
In addition to our competitive balance, another thing that keeps our sport healthy is its honesty. Scandal could very easily be pro football's downfall, which is why I feel the integrity of our sport is so terribly vital. And to keep that integrity above suspicion, we're fighting legalized gambling as hard as we can. The league's concern about it is this: If you legalize gambling on football games, you enhance the possibility of so-called fixes; but this isn't our paramount concern. My major worry would be the suspicions bettors would attach to all our games. We know that people now bet on football and we spend $200,000 a year on our security department to run down rumors of fixed games and to police our sport.
We're not Pollyanna about gambling, but with legalized betting and the way it would operate with point spreads, we can envision the day when, let's say, the New York Jets, six-point favorites, are ahead by five near the end of the game and they have the ball close to their opponent's goal line. Obviously, the intelligent thing for the Jets to do is to run out the clock and take the five-point win. But if they're playing at home, a big part of the crowd in Shea Stadium will be booing because they won't be happy with just a team win; they also want to win their bets. And they'd curse the Jets for stalling out the clock rather than kicking a field goal or going for another touchdown.
[Q] Playboy: Didn't a similar situation occur at the end of the 1958 N.F.L. championship game between the New York Giants and the Baltimore Colts--and wasn't Colts owner Caroll Rosenbloom suspected of ordering his team to go for a touchdown instead of a field goal because a three-point win wouldn't have allowed him to collect a big bet he'd allegedly made on Baltimore?
[A] Rozelle: Right, and the suspicion was totally without merit. The championship was won by the Colts in a sudden-death situation and many people, indeed, felt that rather than going for a touchdown to break the tie, the Colts could much more easily have kicked a field goal. But, of course, people in football know that field goals are far from automatic; they can be blocked and they can be missed. The Colts scored on third down, not fourth down, which many people tend to forget; on fourth down I'm sure they would have tried for three points. That's an even better illustration of the N.F.L.'s case against legalized betting than the one I gave you, for the Colts didn't really have to make a hard fourth-down choice, and yet many bettors are still speculating about the reasons Baltimore went for a touchdown.
[Q] Playboy: A poll taken not long ago by Football News showed that 46 percent of football fans would like to see football betting legalized, with 11 percent undecided on the question. That would seem to indicate not only that a majority of fans might well go along with legalized football betting but that a sizable minority of them are already gambling on games.
[A] Rozelle: In answer to that, the National District Attorneys Association, which includes about 5000 D.A.s from all over America, tells us that less than three percent of the people in the country bet on sporting events through a bookmaker. And because betting is still illegal, there's a minimum of complaining about the outcomes of our games. But if betting were legalized, police switchboards during the season would be flooded with complaints and calls for criminal investigations. There's sufficient pressure on our players now without their having to put up with that kind of flak.
[Q] Playboy: As far as the N.D.A.A. estimate is concerned, it doesn't seem likely that virtually every newspaper in the U.S. would carry N.F.L. point spreads for the benefit of only two percent of the readership. But if you're so opposed to football betting, why haven't you asked newspaper editors to stop publishing point spreads?
[A] Rozelle: There's no real way we can put pressure on newspaper people and I've never tried, because I'm sure they'd feel it would be an attempt by us to infringe on freedom of the press. They think it's in the best interests of their newspapers to print the point spreads, and I don't question that. Instead of moving in that direction, we're presenting our objections to legalized football betting before state legislatures that are considering passage of such measures. Not long ago, we met with a number of members of the New York State legislature, New York being the state that's most actively pursuing legalized football betting.
[Q] Playboy: Why does the N.F.L. supply the newspapers with the league's weekly injury lists, which are invaluable aids to bettors?
[A] Rozelle: We really do it for the opposite reasons--to avoid suspicion and innuendo. If we didn't force the clubs to disclose injuries, inside information about disabled players would almost certainly seep to gambling interests, and then heavy money would be placed the other way on a given game. The game might then be taken off the boards, meaning that bookmakers wouldn't accept bets on it. Whenever that happens, it creates suspicion about the honesty of our games; we make spot checks with bookmakers about three times a week to see what the point spreads are, and if we learn that bookies aren't accepting bets on a specific game, we immediately investigate. Normally, these things have to do with an injury situation, and that's why we force disclosure: so there can't be inside information for gamblers to act upon.
[Q] Playboy: It's been suggested that the profits made through syndicate bookmaking operations subsidize organized crime and that legalized betting would significantly weaken criminal interests. Do you agree with that?
[A] Rozelle: On the contrary. The same type of argument was used in the Thirties when Prohibition was lifted; we were told that ending Prohibition would end organized crime and, of course, it didn't. The same is true when the subject is legalized football betting, especially when you realize that legalizing it won't have a major effect on organized crime's income from bookmaking. The reason is simply this: You don't have a tax problem when you deal with a bookie, but you're going to pay taxes on what you win from a legalized betting operation. I just can't foresee Federal, state or local governments' saying to the better that his winnings will be tax-free. Additionally, all kinds of rumors would be floating around to the effect that relatives of various players had been seen at the off-stadium betting office and that they therefore not only had inside information but were probably betting for the players themselves. There's no question in my mind that we'd get much more suspicion attached to our sport if betting were legalized. Yes, there's gambling on football today, but why not also legalize heroin and prostitution?
[Q] Playboy: Doesn't it strike you as inconsistent that while you inveigh against legalized betting, you permit your security forces to work closely with bookmakers-- presumably, with the understanding that the N.F.L. won't turn the bookies over to the police?
[A] Rozelle: The men we work with are known to law-enforcement people as bookmakers, but knowing they're bookmakers and convicting them are apparently two different things. We deal with people in that business because we need to get accurate betting information, and our telling the police about them would hardly be a news bulletin at the station house.
[Q] Playboy: Whatever the reasons for dealing with bookies, isn't it true that N.F.L. security men assure them that they won't testify against them in court?
[A] Rozelle: I don't know what their relationship is, because I haven't explored it with our security people. But I'm sure the person giving us betting information realizes it's being done in confidence. It's an odd relationship, but it's a very necessary one if we're going to accurately police our sport.
[Q] Playboy: The morality--and even the legality--of that position seems dubious, but let's go on to one of the results of the N.F.L.'s collaboration with bookies. When your security forces are tipped off that players are suspected of betting on or rigging games, it's been the league's policy to give lie-detector tests to the players involved. Are they required to take such tests?
[A] Rozelle: No, it's not mandatory, and we've given them to both owners and players. And our purpose in giving them isn't primarily to catch the guilty but to clear the innocent. For example, three or four years ago, NBC came out with a report that a grand jury in Detroit was about to accuse Len Dawson and other N.F.L. players of gambling on games. We quickly investigated, found that the charges were groundless and told the players involved, "Listen, we've looked into this deeply enough to feel we know that you're not guilty. But for us to come out with the strongest possible denial--which we want to do--we've got to have some backup. We'd like to be able to say that the players are so upset about this thing that they've virtually volunteered to take lie-detector tests. And the tests show that they're clean." We were able to do that and Dawson and the other players--who were clean--benefited from it.
[Q] Playboy: If you found evidence that a team owner had bet on N.F.L. games, would you discipline him as severely as you have players who've been found to be betting?
[A] Rozelle: I would oppose discipline similar to what was imposed on the players; I'd more likely force the owner to sell his franchise. I don't want to prejudge the circumstances that might enter into such a situation, but you're talking about a violation of the strongest rule in the N.F.L.'s constitution. The action I'd take would therefore be stronger than what was done to the players, because just suspending an owner from football indefinitely and then ending that suspension after a year--as we did with Paul Hornung and Alex Karras--wouldn't be enough.
[Q] Playboy: How did you happen to find out that Hornung and Karras were betting on games?
[A] Rozelle: Our security people had picked up rumors, so we started looking into them and talking to players. We began our investigation in December 1962 and finished it in April 1963, after talking to about 20 players and thoroughly investigating rumors concerning each of them. I want to mention that we never found evidence that Hornung or Karras ever gave less than his best on the field or that they ever bet against their own teams. They were betting relatively nominal amounts, but it was a clear violation of the player contract and the N.F.L. constitution, and so we suspended them.
[Q] Playboy: How did they react?
[A] Rozelle: Hornung was frankly more understanding and much more of a man about it. Paul knew he was wrong; he didn't bet big money, but he was giving out some information on games and a man was placing small bets for him. Paul acknowledged all this the first time I called him into our offices to talk to him about what we'd heard. On the day I announced our findings and actions, I called Paul up to tell him about his suspension before our press conference and he took the news as well as could be expected. Karras, however, was very upset about being suspended, even though he had, in fact, been betting on games. He felt that my action was the wrong thing to do and said so publicly and in a highly critical way. He's never changed his opinion and he still enjoys needling me in speeches. Karras has a great sense of humor and he kids me humorously, but it's done on the square: He's not an admirer of mine.
[Q] Playboy: The most recent N.F.L. gambling suspicion involving a player was your Bachelors III run-in with Joe Namath a few years back. How did you feel when it seemed you were pushing the sport's top gate attraction into retirement?
[A] Rozelle: I wasn't really bothered in regard to the game's top player's not being in the league, because I'd gotten inured to that in 1963, when Hornung was probably the N.F.L.'s number-one man. But on a personal level, I felt very badly for Joe. He had announced his retirement rather than sell his interest in a New York bar and restaurant whose telephones were being used to place bets--and we had solid proof of that. Joe did that out of loyalty to his partners; it wasn't an economic decision. The entire episode was a very distasteful experience for me, as I'm sure it was for him, because it lasted in a high glare of publicity for some six weeks before we had a chance to really sit down and work things out.
[Q] Playboy: Namath has the reputation of being something of a prima donna. Was he that way during your talks?
[A] Rozelle: I can't say that I know Joe, but we spent a number of hours together just before he came out of retirement--which wasn't a sham, incidentally--and I thoroughly enjoyed him as a person. When he wants to, he can just have tremendous charm, and I found him to be a really appealing guy. And I was almost amazed by a few things I hadn't known about him at that time: I knew he had a great arm, but I hadn't been aware of his knowledge of football, his mental approach to it and the dedication he gives to the sport. We discussed the Jets' Super Bowl win over the Colts, and it was obvious to me then--as it's since become obvious to everyone--that he has a lot more going for him than just an arm. Namath is an exciting player, and he helped make that Super Bowl game against the Colts about the most exciting one that's been played so far.
[Q] Playboy: Since that Jets-Colts game, Super Bowls--including this past season's Dolphins-Redskins match-up--have become increasingly bland and anticlimactic affairs. Have you figured out why?
[A] Rozelle: Our people feel it's the result of extreme caution, especially in the teams' game plans. Coaches talk about how mistakes can hurt you, and they usually go into the Super Bowl feeling that if their teams can avoid mistakes, they've got a good chance of winning. That's a very conservative approach to the sport and changes the entire pattern of exciting play that we saw during the play-offs. The key to it is more wide-open play in the Super Bowl, but that's not really something the commissioner's office can bring about.
[Q] Playboy: Have you decided how much longer you intend to remain in that office?
[A] Rozelle: I really don't know. I've had conversations on that subject with people in the past, and I've also had several good job offers, but I enjoy what I'm doing and it's never boring. If someone had asked me about pro football's future when I became commissioner in 1960, I wouldn't even have come close to predicting what the sport has achieved in 1973 as to number of teams, television exposure and revenue, attendance, and so on. And even now, the future of the N.F.L. is something I'm just not visionary enough to give a calculated guess about. There are some other career fields that interest me--such as public relations and television work--but when I sit back and realize what's happened to the sport in the 13 years I've been commissioner, I say to myself, "Well, why not sit back and enjoy being a part of this?" Although we've achieved some stability, the job will never be Civil Service; we're always going to have crises, but I hope not to the degree of those in the past. And since I really enjoy football per se, I finally can't see any reason to leave. I've been in sports all my life and it's hard to imagine doing something that wouldn't have a sports connotation.
[Q] Playboy: When you finally do leave your job, how do you think people will remember your administration of pro football?
[A] Rozelle: I would hope they'll remember that I made a strong and, for the most part, successful effort to balance--frequently with compromise, but balancing as best I could--the interests of the sport's club owners, players and, most importantly, its fans. But I really won't be surprised if that doesn't happen, for I think I'll be remembered mostly for what I was publicly identified with in the media--things like television negotiations and disciplinary actions, which I find somewhat unfortunate.
[Q] Playboy: How do you think people will remember you personally?
[A] Rozelle: Due to the types of things I've been most identified with, I think I've come across as a rather cold, hard person, and I have to attribute that to feeling forced to keep a somewhat aloof exterior--except with the small number of very, very close friends that I relax with. And they are probably the only people who will ever really know Pete Rozelle.
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