Owner Wars: Jerry Jones Reportedly Yelled 'Don't Fuck With Me!' at Mr. Kraft While Losing a Major Power Struggle at NFL Meetings

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You remember that scene in Godfather II on the roof of the Havana hotel when Hyman Roth tells Michael Corleone, "Michael, we're bigger than US Steel," then they literally start carving up Cuba, but in cake form? That's what I picture it's like being an NFL owner. Or it's like being one of the members of the World Security Council in the Avengers movies, sitting alone facing a screen, bossing around the World's Mightiest Superheroes [tm]. You're running your own private empire, for sure. But you get to be part of a group that wields true power. A cabal that meets in secret. All with an equal share of the partnership. But, as the saying goes, some more equal than others. And the decisions you make in private together basically run the world. And there is no one outside that Star Chamber with the authority to stop you. Lords of all creation, looking down at the rest of the world. It must be glorious. 

And being part of this powerful circle means there is never a dull moment in your life. Especially if you're one of those "more equal" members of the cartel. Mr. Kraft gives $50 million to provide critical health care to at-risk communities,  then gets married in a surprise, star-studded affair that has become the talk of the glitterati class. A few days later, it's reported Jerry Jones is being sued for forcing himself on an unsuspecting woman and Frenching her against her will in front of several Cowboys witnesses. To each his own, I guess. 

But while they may lead very different kinds of personal lives, there is still business to be done. And so it was that the … oh, let's call them the Heads of the 32 Families, got together this week to discuss financial matters. And things got ugly:

Source - NFL owners voted 31-1 on Tuesday to permit their compensation committee to open negotiations on a new contract with commissioner Roger Goodell, but not before two of the league's most powerful owners, the Dallas Cowboys' Jerry Jones and New England Patriots' Robert Kraft, engaged in a heated exchange, league and ownership sources told ESPN.

The sources said Kraft joined the overwhelming majority in strong support for the measure, with Jones the lone dissenter in the owners-only session, eventually telling Kraft, "Don't f--- with me."

Kraft replied, "Excuse me?"

"Don't mess with me," Jones said.

The measure then passed, sources said. …

Jones is concerned that the triggers for Goodell's proposed bonus pool in a new contract will be too vague and not connected to a strict set of financial goals and metrics without a more rigorous review, sources said. …

Goodell has helped usher in a new 10-year collective bargaining agreement … and landed long-term broadcast deals with new and existing partners worth more than $100 billion.

I think it's clear to everyone who knows me or is even vaguely aware of my existence knows that if I ever wanted my close, personal friend RKK to lose an argument, it would be the one over Roger Goodell's pay. I don't want them to give him a raise. In the spirit of the season, I'd rather they vote to put him in a dunking chair by the river, determine he's a witch, drag him before the Court of Oyer and Terminer, then sentence him to peine forte et dure where stones are placed on his chest over the course of several days, like they did to Giles Corey back in the good old days of Massachusetts justice. 

But that's just me. To pivot back to the Godfather reference, to Mr. Kraft it's not personal, only business. So he's willing do what I cannot, and that's overlook the insane and unjustified harm Der Kommissar has done to the Empire he's built. He feels this buffoonish asshat is good for the bottom line. If nothing else, that the other owners can continue to let him take all the abuse for what goes wrong in the league. Hold him up like a meatshield and make him suffer all the slings and arrows, while they work the CBAs and the TV contracts and collect the profits. That's why he's a mogul; he can separate the rational from the emotional in ways the rest of us can't. 

But what's most impressive is how much sway his opinion has with the other owners. I mean, you can't get a group of 31 billionaires to agree on what luxury resort you should have the meeting in, what brand of private jet you should take, or what shape the table in the conference room should be. But he got them all to line up behind him against Jones, who is supposed to be the most powerful owner in the league. "Don't fuck with me," Jerruh. Consider yourself fucked with. And good luck getting yourself unfucked. Because all the guy you threatened had to do was keep his cool, say "What?" and in an instant, everyone in the room knew who was the Alpha and who was the Beta. Next time the two get together, Jones will no doubt lower his front haunches and put his tail between his hind legs in the submissive pose. Because they all understand who is the real power in that circle of powerful people. 

Again, it's a shame that Ginger Satan is the beneficiary of that power. But you can't have it all, I suppose.