
Orlando, Fla. – Naked eyes probably can’t see it among the stars, artsy script, patriotic colors and football.
But to trained eyes accustomed to reading a contract’s fine print? Stare at the NFL insignia long enough and they probably could detect a skull and crossbones.
Contractual provisions, known in the deal-making world as “poison pills,” not only are at the root of a petty feud between the Seattle Seahawks and Minnesota Vikings, they have become a face-flushed embarrassment to the NFL name.
“I think when emotions get involved, the best decisions aren’t always made,” Carolina Panthers coach John Fox said. “I’m not saying that was the case here. I guess I am saying that was the case here.”
This is about the fight over an offensive guard and a loophole that has been left gapingly open to interpretation. The NFL allows teams with restricted free agents, or free agents marked with “transition” tags, the right of first refusal.
Seahawks guard Steve Hutchinson became that transition player, which meant another team could offer him a contract, but Seattle had the right to match the terms and keep him.
The Vikings swooped in and offered Hutchinson not only a staggering seven-year, $49 million contract, but complex “poison pill” language that ultimately made it all but impossible for the Seahawks to match while staying within salary cap boundaries. The key provision to the Vikings’ offer, creatively drawn up by Hutchinson’s agent, Tom Condon, directed Seattle to guarantee the full $49 million if it didn’t make the guard its highest-paid lineman.
But for themselves, the Vikings contorted the contract’s language so their guaranteed tab on Hutchinson was a more manageable $16 million. Because the Seahawks had left tackle Walter Jones making more money than the Vikings’ offer to Hutchinson, Seattle was trapped into saying goodbye to a blocker who helped lead the way to Super Bowl XL.
“The whole spirit of the rule has dissipated,” said Harold Henderson, who chairs the NFL’s management council. “It’s gone. It’s not an even match.”
The Seahawks first tried to fight the Vikings in a civil manner, filing a grievance with an arbitrator. Using such precedents as the Will Wilford case in 1993 and Curtis Martin in 1998, the arbitrator ruled for the Vikings.
“In this case, the match for Minnesota was $16 million,” Seattle coach Mike Holm- gren said. “The match to the Seahawks meant $49 million. I don’t get it. It wasn’t how it’s supposed to be. It’s got to be fixed.”
Their feathers flustered, the Seahawks made an outrageous, if strikingly similar, seven-year, $49 million offer to Vikings restricted free-agent wide receiver Nate Burleson.
But wait. Here’s the good part: The Seahawks’ offer to Burleson included a poison-pill provision ordering the Vikings to guarantee the full $49 million if the receiver played – get this – five games in any one season in the state of Minnesota, or was paid less than the highest- paid running back.
Barring an overnight relocation to, say, San Antonio, the Vikings are about to lick their own poison.
“When I saw what came back from Seattle, play five games in the state of Minnesota, I went, ‘That’s out of the box,”‘ Vikings coach Brad Childress said. “All we did was get together with (Hutchinson’s) agent, put together a contract that said the guy had to be the highest-paid lineman on the team, knowing that Walter Jones … We thought it was a creative thing. But it wasn’t, if he doesn’t play a game in Alaska, you’ve got a guaranteed contract. I mean, could you have thought of something so absurd? I didn’t know it could manifest itself in that form.”
Yes, this was a vindictive response – should Burleson become a Seahawk, he would become just another No. 2-type receiver on a team that already has a stable full. Yes, to unattached ringside observers, this incident is not without humor.
But yes, it has brought shame to the NFL.
“That was very distasteful to me, our having to jump into something like that and retaliate,” Holmgren said.
With the Disney World theme parks just down the street, NFL owners, coaches and executives gathered in Orlando this week to discuss, among other topics, how to eliminate Mickey Mouse tactics from their multibillion-dollar industry.
“We’d like to close the loophole,” Henderson said. “We think everybody understood what it was historically. The theory, however, of administering the rules of our collective bargaining agreement is that if it’s not prohibited then it’s permitted. And whether by oversight, or omission, or negligence, or whatever, because it had been such a historical part of everybody’s understanding, it was not quantified.”
In an 11th-hour rush to reach a CBA extension two weeks ago, the NFL left these silly poison- pill provisions uncapped. Up next are negotiations with the players union that may or may not be sympathetic to the league’s predicament.
Oh, and something else. The Vikings and Seahawks will meet in Seattle this season. Bring the antitoxins.
Staff writer Mike Klis can be reached at 303-820-5440 or mklis@denverpost.com.



