Behind the Story: Matt Birk and The Hometown Discount

Flem on what he discovered while researching his new Mag feature. Is the hometown discount a slap in the face?

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Birk was nominated for Walter Payton Man of the Year in the NFL.

Last night, longtime Minnesota center Matt Birk inked a deal with the Baltimore Ravens. It's a fascinating deal to us, because we know firsthand how much Birk agonized over the decision (). He told Mag senior writer David Fleming all about what a hometown discount means to an NFL player.

What follows is a "Behind the Story" on the feature. It says a lot based on the news we got last night.

After examining the idea of the Hometown Discount and how it relates to NFL free agency, I'm beginning to wonder, despite the Norman Rockwell-type images the HTD conjures up, if it's a far more insidious tool than we thought—one that might just prove comedian Jerry Seinfeld's theory: we're all just cheering for laundry.

You see, until Ravens owner Steve Bisciotti publicly evoked the idea and turned it into the catchphrase of 2009 free agency, the concept had been a much-used but rarely discussed negotiating tool. Why? Because it's a rather touchy, private subject, isn't it, this business of defining happiness? And it may work better for everyone in the NFL if players aren't forced to publicly proclaim what makes them happy—family, location, job performance, pay check commas—and then put a multi-million dollar pricetag on it.

When the HTD works, when good guys like Eagles safety Brian Dawkins or Minny center Matt Birk take a little less to finish their stellar careers with the same team, then the NFL is a beautiful place where every chair is a Laz-Y-Boy at the 50-yard line, the nacho cheese never runs out and Baltimore football fans (as if they haven't been through enough over the years) don't have to see Ray Lewis mashing melons and making rookie QBs piddle while wearing a silver star on his helmet.

But when the HTD doesn't work, it can pull the curtain back on a startling disconnect in the NFL. Fans invest their time and open their wallets because they believe (or, they want to believe) that "their" players are dedicated to, and motivated by, the logo on their helmets and the guys battling next to them in the trenches. Well, uh, they're not. (You knew that, right? Deep down inside you had to.) As one player told me: that whole love-of-the-game-brother's-in-arms stuff might be true from the start of training camp until the end of the season but during this time of year, it's all about business and the only color players are focused on is green.

As they should be. And we really have no right to blame them for it. It's not greed. It's not spoiled athletes not appreciating what they have. The economics of the game—the lack of fully guaranteed contracts, the 30% annual turnover on rosters and an average career of less than four years—often force players to choose between being a super rich mercenary and a slightly poorer hometown hero. (All while an average hitting middle infielder rakes in 10 times the coin.) And every time a guy like Birk or longtime Atlanta linebacker Keith Brooking bolts for more cash the NFL's illusion cracks just a little bit more.

I'm not sure why this bothers us so much. It seems odd to be a fan of someone who risks crippling himself for your entertainment, and then when the guy finally gets a chance to get paid handsomely for his work, we begrudge him that opportunity and make him feel guilty for taking the cash? That's a rather strange fan letter to pen. Dear Albert Haynesworth: Al, buddy, I think you're awesome and I love the way you play and I appreciate all your hard work, but you should definitely take less than you're worth to stay with my Titans. If not, then, I guess, well I guess I hated you all along.

Only in the NFL can you make it to the top of your field, develop roots in your community and represent the very best of your franchise—and be asked to take a paycut.

When I asked Birk how much less he'd take to stay in his hometown of St. Paul, to not have to move his family, change schools for his kids or leave the hands-on work of his charity foundation to someone else, he turned the tables. (Centers often do this, as you gain a unique perspective on life when your job forces you to see the world upside down.)

"How much would it take for you to move your family across the country to work for another magazine?" he asked. "Would you do it for 5% more? Probably not. What if they offered 25% more? Now, you'd start to think about it, right? Now you start to think, 'they have good schools in other towns…' Players are in the same position."

Think about that this week as you moan and groan when Jon Runyan becomes a Raider. You've worked for a company for 10 years. You've done good work. You've been a model employee. You've helped the company grow and advance to the top of its field. And when it comes time to renew your contract your company says to reward you for all your amazing service we're going to give you the privilege of taking less money to keep your job and stay in your hometown.

In the real world that's called a slap in the face.

In the NFL, they call it a hometown discount.

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