Insert "dumb Aggie joke" here.
Here's the link.
If it's behind a paywall, here's the entire piece from the WaPo.
Before Lil' Kyler Murray gets permission to go outside and toss around the football with his buddies, the Arizona Cardinals have laid down some ground rules.
First, he must complete his homework. Four hours of studying up on the Kansas City Chiefs' defense ahead of their Sept. 11 opener, just like for every other game this season. And, no, throwing virtual touchdowns to frenemy A.J. Green on Madden won't count as building up those God-given cognitive skills of his.
Next, he must limit screen time on his tablet. He can't get sidetracked by unfollowing and scrubbing, then re-following and reposting Cardinals-related posts on Instagram. Even though that's a thing for "a kid" his age his words, not a boomer's an obsession with social media distracts from the whole, you know, leading-an-NFL-locker-room business.
If he does all of this, then Murray will get extra "credit." That's how it reads in the "independent study addendum" clause of his contract extension, which probably was sealed with a pinkie promise.
The Cardinals recently made Murray, 24, the second-highest-paid quarterback in terms of annual salary. And to ensure that their franchise quarterback until at least 2028 holds up his end of the bargain, the Cardinals actually had to assign him weekly homework. No word yet if Cardinals executives sweetened the deal by promising to take Murray out for an ice cream sundae after every game, win or lose.
What we do know is when Murray leaves the office, he must "personally study" material provided by the team. And he must do so in "good faith," which means he can't watch television or browse the internet while brushing up on the next opponent.
If Murray completes his four hours of study per week, then he'll get some kind of unknown credit. Maybe it's driving privileges with Coach Kliff Kingsbury's car or staying up a whole hour past his bedtime on weekends. But clearly the Cardinals felt their quarterback needed more incentive to do his job. Simply pledging to him $230.5 million wouldn't be enough even if this arrangement makes them look like desperate parents raising a precocious child who's blessed with extraordinary talents but also saddled with attention issues.
Teams routinely introduce a variety of ways to protect their investments, which amounts to controlling the people signing the contracts. And it says as much about the fragility of the athlete as it does the stupidity of the team.
The Boston Red Sox randomly weighed pitcher Curt Schilling during his 2008 season and shoveled a few extra million his way if he made weight. Similarly, the Boston Celtics and Glen "Big Baby" Davis agreed to a contract that would pay him an additional $500,000 if he didn't tip the scales too much.
It was extreme sports, not extra pounds, that scared the Los Angeles Lakers into stipulating Vladimir Radmanovic stay away from such activities in his five-year, $30.2 million contract. That didn't stop Radmanovic from going rogue during 2007 NBA All-Star Weekend and injuring his shoulder in a snowboarding accident.
Still, the four-hour study mandate in Murray's contract goes beyond anything we've publicly known about the strings attached to an athlete's egregious salary. The jokes write themselves. If Murray makes his bed, takes out the trash and remembers to call Grandma on her birthday, then Arizona will give him even more "credit."
And it's too bad for the Cardinals. Just when we thought it was safe to start paying attention to this mediocre franchise hidden in the desert, the absurdity of this addendum drags them into the wrong kind of spotlight.
Here's the link.
If it's behind a paywall, here's the entire piece from the WaPo.
Before Lil' Kyler Murray gets permission to go outside and toss around the football with his buddies, the Arizona Cardinals have laid down some ground rules.
First, he must complete his homework. Four hours of studying up on the Kansas City Chiefs' defense ahead of their Sept. 11 opener, just like for every other game this season. And, no, throwing virtual touchdowns to frenemy A.J. Green on Madden won't count as building up those God-given cognitive skills of his.
Next, he must limit screen time on his tablet. He can't get sidetracked by unfollowing and scrubbing, then re-following and reposting Cardinals-related posts on Instagram. Even though that's a thing for "a kid" his age his words, not a boomer's an obsession with social media distracts from the whole, you know, leading-an-NFL-locker-room business.
If he does all of this, then Murray will get extra "credit." That's how it reads in the "independent study addendum" clause of his contract extension, which probably was sealed with a pinkie promise.
The Cardinals recently made Murray, 24, the second-highest-paid quarterback in terms of annual salary. And to ensure that their franchise quarterback until at least 2028 holds up his end of the bargain, the Cardinals actually had to assign him weekly homework. No word yet if Cardinals executives sweetened the deal by promising to take Murray out for an ice cream sundae after every game, win or lose.
What we do know is when Murray leaves the office, he must "personally study" material provided by the team. And he must do so in "good faith," which means he can't watch television or browse the internet while brushing up on the next opponent.
If Murray completes his four hours of study per week, then he'll get some kind of unknown credit. Maybe it's driving privileges with Coach Kliff Kingsbury's car or staying up a whole hour past his bedtime on weekends. But clearly the Cardinals felt their quarterback needed more incentive to do his job. Simply pledging to him $230.5 million wouldn't be enough even if this arrangement makes them look like desperate parents raising a precocious child who's blessed with extraordinary talents but also saddled with attention issues.
Teams routinely introduce a variety of ways to protect their investments, which amounts to controlling the people signing the contracts. And it says as much about the fragility of the athlete as it does the stupidity of the team.
The Boston Red Sox randomly weighed pitcher Curt Schilling during his 2008 season and shoveled a few extra million his way if he made weight. Similarly, the Boston Celtics and Glen "Big Baby" Davis agreed to a contract that would pay him an additional $500,000 if he didn't tip the scales too much.
It was extreme sports, not extra pounds, that scared the Los Angeles Lakers into stipulating Vladimir Radmanovic stay away from such activities in his five-year, $30.2 million contract. That didn't stop Radmanovic from going rogue during 2007 NBA All-Star Weekend and injuring his shoulder in a snowboarding accident.
Still, the four-hour study mandate in Murray's contract goes beyond anything we've publicly known about the strings attached to an athlete's egregious salary. The jokes write themselves. If Murray makes his bed, takes out the trash and remembers to call Grandma on her birthday, then Arizona will give him even more "credit."
And it's too bad for the Cardinals. Just when we thought it was safe to start paying attention to this mediocre franchise hidden in the desert, the absurdity of this addendum drags them into the wrong kind of spotlight.
“If you have a job without aggravations, you don’t have a job.”
Malcolm Forbes
Malcolm Forbes
