Joe Banner wants to renegotiate his contract.
Yes, it’s true. He wants to deviate from the letter of the contract, the written agreement that the Eagles organization originally made with the city of
He wants more money.
He’s outperformed his contract.
He isn’t being appreciated.
The saying is now officially true. Justin Timberlake reminded us of it, but we thought of it as just a song. It’s been around for years and years, and we always used it tongue in cheek, knowing that it isn’t an axiom, it’s just a coincidence that sometimes life seems like satire, that there’s a hidden screenwriter maneuvering events to force us, despite all other logic, to crack a smile and shrug our shoulders and say,
“What goes around comes around.”
Joe Banner is taking the city of
Rightfully so. A verbal agreement? With someone who’s no longer in office? A verbal agreement is fine and dandy if there is no previous written agreement, but if you have something on paper, you’ve got to make your changes on paper. I can’t believe for a second that what’s on paper could be contradicted by hearsay. If I’m selling you my house, and we sign a contract saying you owe a certain amount, you can’t come back and tell me you had a verbal agreement with the previous owner of my house to pay less. I’d be upset at the precious time I wasted listening to that ridiculous sentence. And I don’t own a house worth eight million dollars.
And, here’s what makes me double over with laughter: right now…right now…Sheldon Brown wants a new contract. And, for the past six months, Joe Banner has said no. Not even that, but he hasn’t even deigned to talk to Brown to decline the request in person.
Now that Brian Dawkins has escaped, Sheldon Brown holds the position on the team as a hard-nosed, rock-solid, do-everything/say-nothing work horse who has set an example for all the other players on the defense. Sheldon Brown hits hard. He runs hard. He doesn’t stop. He has enough class and dignity to avoid saying anything bad about anyone on his team, whether it’s the lowliest of rookies or the superstar quarterback. In short, Sheldon Brown has been the model athlete that the organization loves most dearly: a yes man who's worth the money. If anyone on the Eagles deserves a better contract, it's him. He has busted his ass for this team, helped make the defense what it is, and been both a model citizen and a great defensive player.
Remember the hit he made on Reggie Bush in the playoffs? It was the cover of Sports Illustrated -- how often does a tackle make a magazine cover? He made the up-and-coming pretty boy make two attempts at standing up and fail. The TV network cut to commercial because it was too painful to watch.
Doesn't matter to Joe. You're paid to play, and you play. Going above and beyond isn't important.
Remember when they cut Bobby and Troy, back in the day? We all wondered if the defense would be able to hold up. Two snot-nosed kids, Lito Sheppard and Sheldon Brown, stepped in and surprised everyone by shutting down the league's best receivers. They ran with Steve Smith, they did business with Marvin Harrison, and Lito even covered Randy Moss one on one and kept him mortal. John Madden remarked more than once that Brown never gets the interceptions the other guys get because no quarterback throws to his side.
Doesn't matter to Joe. Lito is gone because he wanted a new contract, even though Asante Samuel is NOT as good an individual cover corner (despite the smoke-and-mirrors interception numbers), and now Sheldon Brown is heading down the very same path.
They cut Jeremiah Trotter because they felt he wasn't worth the money. Cut him with two days left in training camp, when it was too late for him to find a job with another team. They could have cut him in February of that year, given his agent the chance to shop around, but they chose to keep him on the roster to help teach the young brats -- his replacements -- through training camp, then skip out on paying him. Tore up the contract. Didn't want to pay the old guy. As if an emotional leader, a warrior like Trotter can be drafted.
They benched Michael Lewis midway through a season, then cut him afterwards. Tore up the contract. Said he was too much of a liability in pass coverage. Then they replaced him with Sean Considine, a horrible waif of a safety who couldn't tackle a three-legged cat. Never mind that the strong safety is not the first position responsible for good pass coverage -- the defensive line has the first responsibility, then the linebackers to back them up, then the corners, then the free safety, then the strong safety. Nah, it was Michael Lewis' fault for wanting a new contract...that is, being a liability in pass coverage.
And, of course, the ultimate example: Brian Dawkins. Joe Banner offered Dawkins a new free agent contract, sort of a half-hearted compromise based on his age and experience -- which, to Banner, were conflicting forces. Dawkins asked to negotiate, and Banner said that the deal was the deal, it stood. An offer is an offer. So, Dawkins, feeling disrespected by the cold attitude, went to a team that he felt was willing to treat him like an adult. Banner spent the next week saying on the radio that he was shocked and hurt that Dawkins would bolt like that.
Whenever a player wants more money, they're suddenly off the team. Whenever a player gets too old, their experience and leadership do not factor in as value. There is no incentive for players to work hard, because there is no reward offered to them for good service. A contract is a contract. There is no negotiation.
And yet, when Joe Banner is in the same position, he expects to be treated differently. He expects the city of Philadelphia to look at the Eagles' good service to the community, look at the tax revenue they've ostensibly brought in, look at the brash confidence with which he insists his verbal agreement is valid, and cut him a new deal according to his terms.
If there's one thing that is always said about Joe Banner, it's that he is a good businessman. No one will ever dispute it. Whatever else you say about the way he comes across, the way he treats his players, the snide attitude he adopts during interviews, he is very, very good at business.
Well, I'm here to dispute it. If I'm the first to say it, fine. If I'm the last to say it, fine. But it needs to be said here. This is the absolute truth, as sure as the sun will come up tomorrow. And if you look to the east and see a warm red glow in the sky, you'll know that this indeed is also true.
Joe Banner is bad at business.
Joe Banner is horrible, awful, atrocious, painfully incompetent, and a complete failure at business.
And here's why: Joe thinks that business is all about money. But that's not true. Money is, at best, 20% of business. The other 80% of business is people. And Joe Banner does not value people enough. He puts off members of the press. He consistently talks down to and insults the fans. He infuriates his players. And when they want to renegotiate their contracts, he doesn't even talk to them. What kind of business operates that way? Not a good one. If an employee wants to speak to his employer about something -- anything -- the employer only has one appropriate response, and that's "When?" But Joe Banner says "No."
And it's gonna keep going until, as Justin Timberlake sang, it comes around again.
The Eagles organization, as it presently operates, gives no incentive to its players to play hard. A contract is a contract. They don't care if players feel appreciated, and no amount of hard work will, in their eyes, exceed the value of the original deal. Nothing is re-negotiated. Not surprising that they leave a trail of frustrated people in their wake. And then the organization expects to be coddled and stroked by the city of Philadelphia when they want something they don't deserve, assuming that they're special and are entitled to exceptions.
Jeremiah Trotter once said -- while he was still on the team -- something poignant and profound. "Maybe," he said, choosing his words carefully, "the policies of this front office are starting to catch up with them."
Maybe there's more in common between Justin Timberlake and Jeremiah Trotter than anyone thought. What would you say, Joe? Does it come back around?
