In March, during his first public interview in the midst of a tumultuous offseason, then-Pittsburgh Steelers wide receiver Antonio Brown told ESPN's Jeff Darlington, "I don’t even have to play football if I don’t want to, bro. I don’t even need the game. I don’t need to prove nothing to anyone. If they want to play, they're going to play by my rules; if not, I don’t need to play."
Maybe we should have believed him then.
More importantly, maybe the Oakland Raiders, who traded for the talented but troubled wideout a mere six days later, should have too.
Darlington pressed Brown further in that interview, asking, "But you want the game?"
"Obviously I want the game, but I don’t need the game,” Brown said. “It’s a difference. I don’t need to play for no one. I’m happy."
"You see this?" he added, gesturing to his home that looked more like a grand palace, glittery and gold all over. "This is paid off, cash. I don’t owe no one. I’m a millionaire. I’m an entrepreneur. I don’t need to prove no one anything."
That difference -- want versus need -- means everything. It’s the difference between a content player and a locker room pariah. NFL teams spend months before the draft trying to discern that in a player. Now it could be the Raiders' undoing.
Brown faces a suspension from the team after reportedly engaging in a heated argument with Raiders general manager Mike Mayock on Wednesday, just the latest trapeze act in what has become a circus of a relationship. The NFL Network’s Ian Rapoport reported that Brown threatened to hit Mayock in the face and then punted a football. This came after the wideout posted a reaction to almost $54,000 in fines levied at him during training camp.
Since the Steelers basically begged the Raiders to take Brown off their hands -- Oakland gave up a third- and a fifth-round pick for the seven-time Pro Bowl wideout -- it has been non-stop absurdity.
Screenwriters couldn’t make this up. Extreme frostbite? A spat over helmets? This of course is nothing new for Brown, whose exit from Pittsburgh was a stain on the huge numbers he put up during a record-breaking, nine-year run in the Steel City.
Automatic on the field and autocratic off it -- that's Brown, a my-way-or-the-highway guy. Sometimes, it's charming. Oftentimes, it's infuriating. Always, it's illuminating.
Brown has offered a window into the mind of the modern superstar football player, and the modern athlete, better than most. Star athletes of today are richer than ever, under more scrutiny than ever and faced with more pressure than ever. We think it’s so hard to walk away. It’s really not.
The icons of a generation ago were not in the top .01% in annual income -- Brown has earned in 10 seasons (including 2019 salary) more than double what Jerry Rice made in 20. And that’s just a generation ago. The star athletes of two generations ago needed offseason jobs.
Brown isn’t just rich, he’s super rich, wealthy enough to live several lifetimes. Some NFL players need to earn a livelihood, need to provide for family back home. Plainly, they need the income.
If AB84 manages his money well, he earns enough in interest to live comfortably until he’s actually 84. It’s not just contracts that have ballooned. Players are under a massive microscope, their every misstep pounced on like a rabbit with a limp.
Talk to any professional athlete in any sport, and you sense a weight on their shoulders that did not exist a decade ago. Some have opened up about anxiety and mental health issues. Some haven’t.
Like Le'Veon Bell’s holdout last season and Andrew Luck’s surprise retirement, this could be another instance of a player taking control of his own career and his own life. If you were Brown -- riches beyond belief, health that cannot be taken for granted -- what would you do?
Maybe he told us his intentions in March and we just let it slide. “I don’t need the game,” he said then.
We’ll soon find out if the Raiders believe him.
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