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A women's rights group named UltraViolet plans to fly protest banners reading #GoodellMustGo over NFL stadiums this weekend.
That's not going to work.
The only way these days to reach Goodell, the NFL's absentee commissioner, is to strap a message to the ankle of a coward-seeking mole.
"Waiting For Goodell" is the saddest play Beckett could have written.
Wednesday, the Vikings announced they were placing Adrian Peterson on the commissioner's exempt list at 12:47 a.m.
The timing puzzled many. It shouldn't have.
The Wilfs reached their decision in conjunction with Goodell, and these days Goodell emerges from hiding only at 12:45 a.m., and only for five minutes — just long enough to restock his supply of merlot-infused brie and imported water crackers.
Goodell runs the richest sports league in North American history. He makes $44 million a year.
Knowing that his league employs a certain number of violent young men, he invested a chunk of his earnings in Manhattan's plushest panic room, just in case, oh, one of the greatest running backs in NFL history was ever exposed as a child abuser, and the team employing that player didn't want to suspend him.
Goodell installed a 120-inch flatscreen TV in the panic room but subscribes to only one channel. He keeps the NFL Network on 24 hours a day because it is his only current source of positive reinforcement, now that his public relations staff has left to work for a more rational boss, Donald Trump.
After speaking with Goodell on an encrypted phone line early Wednesday morning, Vikings owner Zygi Wilf made a rare public speaking appearance, reading a brief statement. Then he turned over the stage to his brother, Mark; Vikings General Manager Rick Spielman; and Vice President of Legal Affairs Kevin Warren.
The Wilfs usually treat microphones as if they were dripping anthrax. They finally stood in front of cameras because, on Monday, when they forced Spielman to face cameras alone, the Wilfs looked weak.
When you're being paid $44 million a year to be the face of a corporation and you can't speak publicly as often as Zygi Wilf, you should find another job.
Goodell is the son of a senator. He started work for the NFL as a public relations assistant.
He did not rise because of financial wizardry or legal expertise but because he pleased the right people at the right time, becoming a valued aide to former Commissioner Paul Tagliabue.
Goodell wasn't hired because he is a puppet master who must work behind a screen to protect his masterly tricks. He was hired to be a more personable version of Tagliabue, an intelligent leader who came off as a bit of snob.
Goodell was hired to be a front man for a stunningly successful enterprise. He has chosen to hide.
He hid when Ray Rice was the name tainting his league, submitting only to an interview with CBS, one of the NFL's many sympathetic business partners. He has hidden ever since Peterson's abuse began tainting his league, and as the Carolina Panthers finally put domestic abuser Greg Hardy on the exempt list, and as Arizona Cardinals running back Jonathan Dwyer was arrested for domestic abuse, and as the San Francisco 49ers have chosen not to deactivate or suspend Ray McDonald, who is accused of domestic abuse.
He hid as the Wilfs sought his counsel and held one of the most awkward news conferences since … the last news conference featuring multiple Wilfs.
You would think that a series of crimes by his players against women and children would smoke Goodell out of his bunker, that he might want to assure the public that he cares, that he might want to remove the onus of difficult decisions from his bosses, the NFL owners.
Crises give leaders a chance to lead. Goodell has chosen to hide.
He should be allowed to stay in his bunker while the owners find a competent replacement.
Jim Souhan can be heard weekdays at noon and Sundays from 10 to noon on 1500 ESPN. @SouhanStrib • jsouhan@startribune.com