Listeners to "The Greg Hill Show" last Friday were treated to a steadfast defense of Deshaun Watson from a Texans beat guy who trotted out all of the stereotypes historically used to discredit sexual misconduct allegations against powerful men.
Aaron Wilson, who covers the Texans for the Houston Chronicle, vouched for Watson's character during the 10-minute conversation. But troublingly, he mixed in unfounded insinuations against the now-16 accusers, implying they're part of a shakedown.
"In (Watson's) case, you don't negotiate with terrorists," Wilson said. "People are demanding money, they're asking for money. It kept escalating, it kept going up and up and up. You're talking about more and more funds, I'm not going to say how much it got to, but my understanding is there was an admission that, it was just a money grab."
Wilson doesn't elaborate what he's referencing, though Watson said he previously rejected a "baseless" six-figure settlement claim from Houston attorney Tony Buzbee, who's representing all 16 women. Still, it's pretty crass to describe the accusers, most of whom are massage therapists, as "terrorists."
It seems unfathomable that people with impeccable images, like Watson, could secretly be serial sexual predators. But as we've learned through #MeToo, the combined forces of power and money can keep wrongdoing hidden for years.
In Watson's case, he appears to enjoy scouting women on Instagram and flying them in for massages — even during a global pandemic. Most of the suits detail a similar story: Watson hires a woman to provide personal services, and then engages in lewd behavior. The suits allege Watson exposed himself to the women during massages, and coerced them to touch him in a sexual manner.
All of the alleged incidents occurred from March 2020 to March 2021.
There's been a lot of focus on Buzbee, the high-profile lawyer who lives on the same tony Houston street as Texans chairman Cal McNair and unsuccessfully ran for mayor in 2019. Seven years ago, Buzbee lined the city with 10 billboards urging the Texans to select Johnny Manziel in the 2014 NFL Draft. ProFootballTalk's Mike Florio, a licensed attorney, has dedicated his entire coverage towards sifting through statements from Buzbee and Watson's representation.
But fixating on the lawyer is shallow, because it wipes out the greater context surrounding the case. Before opining on the nature of the allegations, it would be useful to know about the realities of the personal service industry, and how often women are subject to misconduct. Most of all, it would be helpful to hear from — oh, I don't know — women themselves.
The appalling lack of diversity in sports reporting, and especially punditry, always exposes itself during stories like these. Of the 75 outlets belonging to the Associated Press Sports Editors, 90 percent of sports editors and 88.5 percent of sports reporters are men.
While digital outlets are thankfully closing some of that gap, the disparity is still stark on the TV and radio airwaves. Opinion shows run night and day, but there's seldom a woman at the table — unless her role is to play traffic cop. That's how we wind up with scenes like Skip Bayless and Shannon Sharpe expressing their dismay for … the NFL.
"I feel for the league, because (Watson) is one of the big stars of the league, but at what point you have to do something," Bayless said on "Undisputed," the second-most watched sports show on YouTube. (Keep in mind, Bayless dismissed Dak Prescott's bouts with depression last year. He's not the most enlightened voice on these matters)
"I feel bad for the league. Only in professional sports, when somebody does this, it's the league's fault," added Shannon Sharpe.
Though women comprise 47 percent of the NFL's audience, they're barely represented on the glut of NFL studio shows. Former Raiders executive Amy Trask of CBS Sports is the only figure with a regular Sunday gig.
It's time for the sports TV industry to reflect its audience. Adding more women to the mix would amplify these discussions. It's been eight years since Ray Rice, and yet, fields are filled each week with admitted and convicted domestic abusers. The behavior remains normalized.
When former Seahawks tackle Chad Wheeler was arrested last month for allegedly attempting to strangle his girlfriend to death, the story barely registered in the news cycle. After all, the Super Bowl was just days away.
"I, personally, as a woman, would like to hear more from the NFL," Molly Qerim said on First Take. "Based on the history, you need to show us there's a real process taking place, a real investigation." If this was you, Max or Stephen A., you wouldn't be on 'First Take' today."
It must be enraging for women sports fans to always hear men spouting off about sexual misconduct — looking at issues through the lenses of leverage and trade rumors. We don't know whether Watson is guilty, but we can convict the sports media of failing to cover the whole story.
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Women of "The Greg Hill Show:" At the risk of sounding completely obsequious — and I may or may not always possess machiavellian motivates— it's been nice to hear Greg Hill try out different female voices to replace Danielle Murr. Of course, diversity of thought is the most important component to filling out a morning rotation. But it helps when the hosts come from different backgrounds and perspectives. I enjoyed Courtney Cox, for example, pointing out the silence of Watson's Instagram-famous girlfriend in recent weeks.
The Amazonization of sports scoops: The opportunities for local scribes to beat out the likes of Adrian Wojnarowski and Adam Schefter completely ended when locker room access closed last March. Since then, we've seen National Insiders ™ further monopolize their reach. According to my unofficial tally, Woj and Shams Charania broke every transaction of significance at the NBA trade deadline. The juiciest piece of Celtics gossip was dropped on a pre-deadline podcast, when The Ringer's Kevin O'Connor revealed there was a rift in the locker room.
When coverage becomes centralized, we lose out on valuable first-hand insight. Adam Schefter once told journalist Mark Leibovich he only attends one NFL game per year: the Super Bowl. Otherwise, he's working the phones from Bristol, fielding calls from agents and executives.
Players, meanwhile, can now take their voices directly to social media. They no longer need to schmooze with the traveling beat reporter — the pandemic has proven that.
So much is lost when access is frozen, including objectivity. NBA news is largely funneled through promotional videos and glorified press releases. It's up to the public to sort everything out.
Red Sox' anonymous Spring: This has been the most anonymous Red Sox Spring Training since the advent of cable TV. That's not really hyperbolic, either: WEEI's Rob Bradford and the Globe's Pete Abraham are the only beat reporters on site (Bradfo boasts he's the only person who's seen every inning of every game).
Interestingly enough, this media blackout could work to the team's advantage. Their mystery allows us to forget last season's 60-game catastrophe, and now they can return anew. But with fans coming back to Fenway, they won't be hidden for long.
