Football players were holding out for more money long before the NFL even existed.
In 1892, the Allegheny Athletic Association faced the Pittsburgh Athletic Club in an "amateur" football game; in the era before air quotes, some folks naively believed none of the players were paid. According to a history on the Pro Football Hall of Fame website, both teams scoured the country offering to compensate ringers, with both hoping to land the grand prize: William Heffelfinger, a three-time All-America guard at Yale who was known as Pudge.
But Heffelfinger refused to play at first, saying he would not risk his amateur standing for a mere $250 offer from the Pittsburgh club. Five hundred dollars was another matter, and Heffelfinger not only played for Allegheny but starred, scoring the game's lone touchdown on a fumble recovery.
The Heffelfinger affair has little to do with New York Jets cornerback Darrelle Revis' holdout: $250 would not even cover the duplication costs of the back-and-forth contract proposals. It just goes to show that the stalemate between NFL owners and players existed long before there were NFL owners and players.
In the days before free agency, players had no negotiating leverage, even when their contracts were expired. Holding out for renegotiation was often portrayed as an act of betrayal.
In 1977, agent Howard Slusher persuaded many of his 50 high-profile clients to hold out for better deals; Slusher was essentially the Johnny Appleseed of contract discord. Team executives called it Slusher's disease, decrying the holdouts to a sports public that still believed free agency was evil (and that college athletics were pure).
"What they're doing is tantamount to blackmail," one executive said at the time.
All-Pro Patriots guards John Hannah and Leon Gray were among the most famous holdouts, and after a 1-2 start, the team agreed to pay them $38,000 and $25,000 bonuses to return to the field under their existing contracts.
Hannah and Gray received little teammate support during their holdouts. No one performed a rain dance to hasten their return (as Jets players did for Revis), and it was hard to send a text or Twitter message of encouragement to someone in 1977. Even the players union frowned on the holdouts.
John Riggins held out for the entire 1980 season before Redskins coach Joe Gibbs and union chief Ed Garvey prevailed on him to return. Riggins' statement to the media reflected the perils of a poorly planned job action: "I'm bored, I'm broke, and I'm back."
Season-long holdouts, while rare, are still a possibility. Defensive tackle Sean Gilbert sat out the entire 1997 season when the Redskins designated him their franchise player. The Redskins initially offered Gilbert $20 million over five years, but he wanted $22.5 million over the same period. Those were not exactly irreconcilable differences, but the two sides were in a stalemate again in 1998 before the Redskins traded him to the Panthers for two first-round draft choices. Gilbert got a $46.5 million deal, and the Redskins vowed from that point forward to reward defensive tackles with bushels of money, which explains the Albert Haynesworth situation.
Gilbert, of course, is Revis' uncle, and we can picture him in the garden, drinking wine and offering advice, Godfather-style: "They will make you an offer you can't refuse, Darrelle. Refuse it."
The better the player, the more obstinate he can afford to be. Emmitt Smith earned $465,000 to rush for 1,713 yards in 1992 and lead the Cowboys to a Super Bowl victory. When he held out in 1993, the Cowboys tried to stand firm, inserting rookie Derrick Lassic into the lineup and giving him a nearly Emmitt-like role. Lassic carried the ball 35 times for just 127 yards in two losses, one of them against the Redskins in a Monday night season opener.
"Without Emmitt Smith the Cowboys are Tampa Bay," Mike Wilbon of The Washington Post wrote. "They stink."
The losses rattled the owner, Jerry Jones, and emboldened Smith; when Jones offered $13.4 million, Smith said he would go to Dallas to collect his Super Bowl ring and clear out his locker. Smith eventually agreed to $13.5 million, but upfront money mattered more than decimals, as Smith collected $7 million in bonuses and first-year salary.
Replace Derrick Lassic with Kyle Wilson and you have a nightmarish situation for the Jets, although the Cowboys did win the Super Bowl again once Smith returned.
Wilson is not the only young Jets player who could be affected by a rancorous holdout. Eric Dickerson held out against the Colts for 80 days in 1990; in his copious free time, he blasted everyone from the Colts organization to his offensive linemen. The Colts started the year 0-3, and Dickerson got what he wanted: a four-year, $10 million contract.
Players do not always get what they want from holdouts. Defenders Mike Singletary, Todd Bell and Al Harris held out of Bears camp in 1985. After a little common-sense triage, the Bears decided to restructure Singletary's contract and let the others sit out the entire season. The Bears won the Super Bowl and fielded one of the best defenses in history without Bell and Harris, who slinked back to the fold in 1986. Buddy Ryan coordinated that defense, so just as Revis has Gilbert, Jets coach Rex Ryan has his own consigliore on season-long holdouts. Buddy Ryan would be quick to point out, however, that Revis is a Singletary, not a Bell.
For each of these significant holdouts, there are hundreds that end quietly once two-a-days are over and peer pressure mounts. Jerry Rice held out for 37 days in 1992 but admitted later that he would never have held out during the regular season.
"I was like, 'Just get it done so I can get back in there with my team and try to win football games,'" he said.
