The Green Bay Packers have a way of doing things. They draft and develop athletes with high RAS and without major character issues. They really pick their spots when it comes to the free-agent and trade markets. They’re cold calculators.
It’s a philosophy crucial to who they are, the success they’ve had, and one that’s recently been passed down from the late Ted Thompson to current GM Brian Gutekunst. This is an organization that saw fans begging for a wide receiver in the first round of each of the last 10 drafts, a path they followed exactly zero times, even after Davante Adams’ departure just over a year ago. The Packers just dug their heels in for months to net that perfect trade package from New York. They’re unapologetic. They do what they feel they have to do, and they don’t care too much about the rest of it, perhaps to a fault.
This week, with some fresh new comments, Aaron Rodgers rehashed the years-long saga that culminated in his split from the franchise after 18 years. According to Matt Schneidman of The Athletic, Rodgers put forth an ultimatum following the disappointing 2021 playoff run – trade me or fire Gutekunst. Mark Murphy did neither. Much was subsequently made of Gutekunst’s alleged attempts to contact Rodgers. The future Hall of Famer emphasized that he only has one or two bars of internet service when he’s out west, but implored Gutekunst to “just tell the truth, you wanted to move on…. Like, listen, I talk to the people that I like.”
We’re talking about a guy who has brought Green Bay a Super Bowl and given them four MVP seasons. Rodgers has produced countless memories – from the Hail Marys in Detroit and Arizona to the epic comebacks at Lambeau Field. For it to end in ugly divorce after all this time feels wrong. But perhaps not when you consider the outspoken, polarizing disposition he’s assumed ever since the COVID outbreak and the dawn of The Pat McAfee Show. To an extent, this saga is just the kind of thing that happens when an organization so firm in their beliefs and practices comes into conflict with a personality like Rodgers’.
Schneidman’s piece also shined light on Davante Adams’ departure a year prior. Adams rightfully believed he was the league’s best receiver, and he wanted to be paid like it. DeAndre Hopkins’ $27.25 million AAV was the bar in his mind, but the Packers came out and offered him Christian Kirk money (just under $18 million AAV). Adams felt disrespected. He was coming out of a team-friendly contract that he’d dominated on for years, and Rodgers’ future was uncertain. Despite receiving the franchise tag, it was time for him to force his way out. Obviously, it’s disappointing now that Hopkins is on a rough, untradable contract despite being barely removed from his prime, at worst. The market dealt Green Bay a tough hand, but it didn’t mean they had to fold.
When I hear that story, I see the Packers setting a low floor for their negotiation, trying to squeeze out every dollar in a deal that’s sure to be costly. Approaching negotiations so aggressively and without regard for the emotions involved is one of the cornerstones of the Packer way. We’ve seen it play out often. Frankly, slapping the franchise tag on a guy who had proven himself overwhelmingly, and who had given so much to the organization, felt like a nervy move. As soon as Adams hit them with a bit of brinksmanship, their offer ended up eclipsing the deal he eventually signed with the Las Vegas Raiders, but he was already gone mentally.
When you look at Rodgers’ storied career post-Jordy Nelson and post-Super Bowl triumph, it’s hard not to almost exclusively envision over-the-shoulder grabs and surgical slants from Adams. Watching them leave in successive offseasons, with plenty of gas still in the tank, feels like an emerging blindspot of the Packer way. It’s easy for the team to hide behind the narrative that Rodgers is an asshole, that he’s just become so mercurial and politicized in recent years that anyone would’ve had trouble remaining on solid ground. But let’s not forget that Murphy and Gutekunst unapologetically drafted his successor, three years early, on the heels of an NFC Championship Game loss.
It worked wonders in 2005:
- Who cares if the rest of the league is trending towards handing the keys to their young QBs almost immediately?
- Who cares that dudes drafted two years after Love are getting starting roles before him?
- Who cares what the rest of the league thinks?
- Who cares what Rodgers thinks? Who cares what anyone thinks?
Why should we? Unapologetically taking the “optimal” path, no matter what they say on ESPN, no matter how the players feel about it, regardless of league-wide trends. That is the Packer way.
The key question that they have to ask themselves is: How does this hold up in an era of near-unilateral superstar power. In the past few years, the football world has seen stars force themselves off the teams that drafted and developed them for money, a better role, and/or a chance to compete for a championship. And we’ve seen it at near-NBA levels. Maintaining those relationships has an enormous impact on the direction of the franchise.
If the Rodgers saga has taught us anything, it’s that the Packer way is alive and well – from selecting Love and slapping an expiration date on their Hall of Famer to waiting months to extract their preferred trade package from Joe Douglas and the New York Jets. What remains to be seen is if there will be any major tweaks to the strategy. But those have been as rare as their QB transitions in the 21st century, so we’ll just have to wait and see.
