NFL Free Agents : Legacy of Hall of Famer John Mackey

On Nov. 12 in Minneapolis, judge David Doty will consider the application of 600 or so NFL players to become free agents. Their contracts expire Feb. 1 and given the recent climate of the court--four players were set free in September--the latest litigants are cautiously optimistic.

John Mackey never thought it would come to this.

Mackey is the Patrick Henry of the NFL, the first guy with the gumption to stand up to the league and demand some things, resulting in . . . shhh, not so loud . . . a union.

A union? Outrageous!

Mackey was the first president of the NFL Players Assn. after the merger of the NFL and AFL in 1968. “We were an association, not a union,” he said. It is a fine line, but significant. Now they are an association again, a strategy to deliver the gains for which Mackey’s union fought.

In Mackey’s first meeting with the league, labor attorney Theodore Kheel was dispatched to represent management. Mackey, a tight end of some note but a novice in labor relations, was not familiar with his adversary’s sizeable resume. “I asked, ‘Kheel? Who is he? A linebacker?’ ” he said.

Well, not exactly.

After some preliminary pleasantries, it was time to talk business. “Kheel said, ‘Sign these documents or we won’t negotiate.’ ” Mackey said.

The tight end looked over the paperwork. Folded in among the legalese was an intriguing clause, something about the players waiving the right to preseason pay in perpetuity.

“I said,” Mackey recalled, “ ‘Mr. Kheel, I have a question. How long is perpetuity?’ ”

Kheel seemed annoyed at what he perceived to be a frivolous question. “You know how long perpetuity is,” he said. “Perpetuity is perpetuity.”

“Oh,” Mackey replied. “You mean THAT perpetuity. That’s a long time.”

And with that, the tight end walked out, firing the first shot in football’s labor wars. There would be a formal filing with the National Labor Relations Board and soon, the Players Assn. became a union.

“I knew we’d get some form of free agency,” he said. “I just didn’t know when and how. I was so young, so inexperienced. They had all the answers. I fought some battles. It’s good I was so naive. I never took it personally.”

The shooting between players and owners has stopped only occasionally ever since.

Mackey, honored last week at the Hall of Fame Dinner to benefit The Boys’ Club of New York, has not been pleased with the progression of lawsuits and courtrooms the league and the players have found themselves in over the years.

“The only people who win in court are the litigators,” he said. “The NFL beat the USFL in court. They had to pay $3 in damages--and $70 million in legal fees. They had to pay the players $1.6 million in the free agency suit. What were the legal fees? On the scoreboard they win but if it costs $100 million, what did you win?

“Look here. Suppose I hate you and you hate me. But we have to get out of this room and the only way we can do it is working together, then we have to work together. We can hate one another again when we’re out in the street but until then, we’d better work together.”

He sees that as analagous to the NFL’s labor situation.

“Once the owners believe they have more to lose and the players believe they have less to win, they can come up with something meaningful,” he said. “You need mutual respect, the understanding that I’m not going away and you’re not going away. The history of what went before is irrelevent. It’s where we go from here. There is a lot to learn from history, but let’s move forward, not backward.”

Mackey’s union activism may have cost him votes in Hall of Fame balloting. He finally made it last January in his 15th and final year of eligibility, an overdue tribute to the man who defined the position of tight end.

He only played for two teams but they spanned the NFL spectrum. He started in first place with the Baltimore Colts and finished in last place with the San Diego Chargers. It was culture shock.

“When I was drafted by the Colts, the first guy I met in the locker room was the equipment manager,” Mackey said. “He told me, ‘I’ll shine your shoes and spray your helmet and press your uniform. I expect you to play the way you look.’ ”

Nine years later, the tight end was waived and claimed by the Chargers. Once again, he encountered the equipment manager.

“I told him I was from the world champion Baltimore Colts and over there they shine your shoes, spray your helmet and press your uniform because they expect you to play the way you look.”

“He just looked at me and said, ‘Here’s the shoe polish and the helmet spray. I put the jocks and socks in the middle of the floor. Get here early if you want your size.’ ”