Oct. 25, 2015. The final seconds tick down for a Washington Redskins 31-30 victory over the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. The Skins had overcome a 24-point first-half deficit — the biggest comeback in franchise history — and it was time for one of the longest postgame celebrations in recent memory at FedEx Field. Coaches hug team executives. Players hug trainers. Fans hug anyone they can find. Only Robert Griffin III stands alone. Just three years ago, the quarterback would have been at the center of the exhilaration. Despite being injury-free, Griffin had spent his time in this game as he had during all of the games last fall: standing along the sideline or seated on the bench in Redskins’ workout gear without even a clipboard to shield his irrelevancy. He smiles sheepishly, high-fives a few players who rush past him but mostly he just watches the fun alone. This is Kirk Cousins’ day, the backup who now has Griffin’s job. The Redskins are Cousins’ team now. The once unthinkable is ineluctable. After one of the most spectacular rookie seasons in NFL history, Griffin is on his way out. Less than four months later, he will be released.
The Cleveland Browns are just going through the motions — it’s still April — but the team’s newest quarterback is attacking his drills like a drowning man determined to stay afloat. As he drops back, Robert Griffin III has never displayed better footwork. Over and over again, he sets the correct depth on his drive step. He’s equally precise on his crossover and balance steps. From a textbook throwing position, Griffin squares his shoulders correctly toward his targets and whips the ball around the practice field, hitting receivers in stride. Comeback routes, out routes, dig routes — Griffin hasn’t thrown the ball this well in practice in years. His teammates are impressed. After several strong throws, many are smiling. Maybe the Browns have found the quarterback they’ve needed for so long. Once again, Griffin is in a place where he’s wanted.
“You love to do something so much,” Griffin said in his first news conference after signing with the Browns. “And when that is stripped away from you, one of two things can happen: You can either tank it and allow it to break you — or let it build you up.”
A stunning fall from the highest heights of the NFL has left Griffin scrambling to rebuild a career that began like the opening act of a blockbuster. You have to remember: Back in 2012, Griffin had the greatest season statistically for a rookie quarterback in NFL history. He set NFL rookie records for passer rating (and for percentage of passes intercepted). Griffin accounted for 27 touchdowns and led the league in yards-per attempt. As a runner, he topped the NFL in yards per carry. He also led Washington to its first division title in 13 years. And if there was a better corporate pitchman that year, we never saw him. Griffin wasn’t merely an exciting player. He was the total package. He was RG3 — the Next Big Thing.
“Man, there are a lot of good quarterbacks out there who can do stuff,” former Washington running back Clinton Portis said. “The difference was, for a quarterback, Robert did stuff we ain’t never seen before.” (...)
So what happened?
The popular narrative is that the Redskins ruined Griffin. The team showed no regard for Griffin’s health. Washington’s receivers weren’t good enough. The offensive line was horrible. The defense was worse. Management didn’t do enough to improve the roster. Coaches sabotaged Griffin because they wanted Cousins to start. It was racism. The list is as long as the lines that used to form during Griffin’s public appearances. Griffin acknowledges he holds a grudge against Washington. “I’m not trying to let any baggage hold me down,” Griffin said, “but I have a massive chip on my shoulder.”
When viewed from that lens, Griffin does appear to be a victim. However, the story of Griffin’s exit from Washington is much more complicated than the they-had-it-out-for-him thinking that has pervaded the team’s fan base. “It’s not a single-sided issue of victimization of RG3,” said sociologist Harry Edwards, who has spent decades advising the San Francisco 49ers and observing the NFL. “It’s a much more complicated and complex issue, some of which he created himself, some of which is imbedded in the very fact that he’s a black man playing the quarterback position in this society.”
Talk to people who worked with Griffin in Washington, and most will tell you he had chances — too many — to salvage his starting position and that many of his problems started with him. Griffin was too focused on his endorsements. He overindulged in social media. He alienated teammates by deflecting blame for his poor performances and ran his mouth too much in interviews. He should have spent more time in the film room and less on enhancing the cult of RG3.
The truth is Griffin, who declined to participate in this story, was oblivious to the crumbling of his career and has never accepted responsibility for his role in his failure. But the African-American pioneers at his position did recognize what was happening. They saw a young, talented brother going under and tried to help. Griffin, however, didn’t think he needed saving. Now, at only 26, the former star is back to auditioning to stay in the game. (...)
Griffin was part of a celebrated rookie quarterback class that also included Indianapolis’ Andrew Luck and Seattle’s Russell Wilson. Luck and Wilson had great seasons. Griffin’s was better; he has the 2012 NFL offensive rookie-of-the-year award to prove it.
At a time when partisan rancor in D.C. had never been worse, politicians were united in their excitement about the most important player on the region’s most popular professional sports team. “Around here that first year, man, Robert was a rock star,” former Washington wide receiver Santana Moss said. “You had to be here to understand how big he was.”
Outside the Beltway, Griffin also had a large following. At one point, he was wearing the league’s top-selling jersey. Whenever he sent out a tweet, he sent Twitter abuzz. You couldn’t turn on a television without seeing Griffin hawking top brands. Adidas, EA Sports, Gatorade, Nissan, Subway — companies raced to partner with him. Adidas created both a personal logo and signature-training shoe for him. (...)
But let’s call it like it is: Besides Griffin’s big performances, a big part of his appeal was that white people considered him to be “safe.” Raised in a military household by two now-retired Army sergeants, Griffin was reserved. On the field, he wasn’t prone to look-at-me celebrations. Off it, he didn’t seem standoffish. Basically, he wasn’t Cam Newton.
“If you’re a company in 2012, you see he’s a Heisman Trophy winner with the pedigree of military parents, so that’s a great start,” longtime marketing executive Larry Lundy said. “You add to it that he took a school like Baylor from mediocrity to the center of the college football world, what he was doing for the Redskins, his performance on the field and his persona off it. For advertisers, it was a perfect storm.”
The Cleveland Browns are just going through the motions — it’s still April — but the team’s newest quarterback is attacking his drills like a drowning man determined to stay afloat. As he drops back, Robert Griffin III has never displayed better footwork. Over and over again, he sets the correct depth on his drive step. He’s equally precise on his crossover and balance steps. From a textbook throwing position, Griffin squares his shoulders correctly toward his targets and whips the ball around the practice field, hitting receivers in stride. Comeback routes, out routes, dig routes — Griffin hasn’t thrown the ball this well in practice in years. His teammates are impressed. After several strong throws, many are smiling. Maybe the Browns have found the quarterback they’ve needed for so long. Once again, Griffin is in a place where he’s wanted.“You love to do something so much,” Griffin said in his first news conference after signing with the Browns. “And when that is stripped away from you, one of two things can happen: You can either tank it and allow it to break you — or let it build you up.”
A stunning fall from the highest heights of the NFL has left Griffin scrambling to rebuild a career that began like the opening act of a blockbuster. You have to remember: Back in 2012, Griffin had the greatest season statistically for a rookie quarterback in NFL history. He set NFL rookie records for passer rating (and for percentage of passes intercepted). Griffin accounted for 27 touchdowns and led the league in yards-per attempt. As a runner, he topped the NFL in yards per carry. He also led Washington to its first division title in 13 years. And if there was a better corporate pitchman that year, we never saw him. Griffin wasn’t merely an exciting player. He was the total package. He was RG3 — the Next Big Thing.
“Man, there are a lot of good quarterbacks out there who can do stuff,” former Washington running back Clinton Portis said. “The difference was, for a quarterback, Robert did stuff we ain’t never seen before.” (...)
So what happened?
The popular narrative is that the Redskins ruined Griffin. The team showed no regard for Griffin’s health. Washington’s receivers weren’t good enough. The offensive line was horrible. The defense was worse. Management didn’t do enough to improve the roster. Coaches sabotaged Griffin because they wanted Cousins to start. It was racism. The list is as long as the lines that used to form during Griffin’s public appearances. Griffin acknowledges he holds a grudge against Washington. “I’m not trying to let any baggage hold me down,” Griffin said, “but I have a massive chip on my shoulder.”
When viewed from that lens, Griffin does appear to be a victim. However, the story of Griffin’s exit from Washington is much more complicated than the they-had-it-out-for-him thinking that has pervaded the team’s fan base. “It’s not a single-sided issue of victimization of RG3,” said sociologist Harry Edwards, who has spent decades advising the San Francisco 49ers and observing the NFL. “It’s a much more complicated and complex issue, some of which he created himself, some of which is imbedded in the very fact that he’s a black man playing the quarterback position in this society.”
Talk to people who worked with Griffin in Washington, and most will tell you he had chances — too many — to salvage his starting position and that many of his problems started with him. Griffin was too focused on his endorsements. He overindulged in social media. He alienated teammates by deflecting blame for his poor performances and ran his mouth too much in interviews. He should have spent more time in the film room and less on enhancing the cult of RG3.
The truth is Griffin, who declined to participate in this story, was oblivious to the crumbling of his career and has never accepted responsibility for his role in his failure. But the African-American pioneers at his position did recognize what was happening. They saw a young, talented brother going under and tried to help. Griffin, however, didn’t think he needed saving. Now, at only 26, the former star is back to auditioning to stay in the game. (...)
Griffin was part of a celebrated rookie quarterback class that also included Indianapolis’ Andrew Luck and Seattle’s Russell Wilson. Luck and Wilson had great seasons. Griffin’s was better; he has the 2012 NFL offensive rookie-of-the-year award to prove it.
At a time when partisan rancor in D.C. had never been worse, politicians were united in their excitement about the most important player on the region’s most popular professional sports team. “Around here that first year, man, Robert was a rock star,” former Washington wide receiver Santana Moss said. “You had to be here to understand how big he was.”
Outside the Beltway, Griffin also had a large following. At one point, he was wearing the league’s top-selling jersey. Whenever he sent out a tweet, he sent Twitter abuzz. You couldn’t turn on a television without seeing Griffin hawking top brands. Adidas, EA Sports, Gatorade, Nissan, Subway — companies raced to partner with him. Adidas created both a personal logo and signature-training shoe for him. (...)
But let’s call it like it is: Besides Griffin’s big performances, a big part of his appeal was that white people considered him to be “safe.” Raised in a military household by two now-retired Army sergeants, Griffin was reserved. On the field, he wasn’t prone to look-at-me celebrations. Off it, he didn’t seem standoffish. Basically, he wasn’t Cam Newton.
“If you’re a company in 2012, you see he’s a Heisman Trophy winner with the pedigree of military parents, so that’s a great start,” longtime marketing executive Larry Lundy said. “You add to it that he took a school like Baylor from mediocrity to the center of the college football world, what he was doing for the Redskins, his performance on the field and his persona off it. For advertisers, it was a perfect storm.”
by Jason Reid, ESPN/The Undefeated | Read more:
Image: John McDonnell/The Washington Post via Getty Images
