An open letter to Roger Goodell

Roger Goodell, Commissioner
National Football League
345 Park Avenue
New York NY 10154

Dear Mr. Goodell:
I’m writing to you about a National Football League problem of which you are likely unaware and to which you are unlikely to seek a solution. Indeed, as with most of the occasional missives I address to the rich and powerful, you will be—almost certainly—shielded from this overture by your vigilant team of gatekeepers.

The subject of my concern is a criminal enterprise with which the NFL is entangled. It’s call DAZN.

Before I explain, please indulge my inclination to offer a little personal background. I’m a Green Bay Packers fan dating to the era of Vince Lombardi, when my gridiron heroes included Bart Starr, Willie Davis, Jim Taylor, Herb Adderley and the incomparable Paul Hornung. My introduction to NFL broadcasts was through the economical narration of Ray Scott. I remember the Ice Bowl.

Moreover, my background as a journalist includes more than thirty years, off and on, as a sportswriter. My novel, A Sunday Kind of Love, is a romantic comedy about a young woman slipping into the embrace of NFL fandom. My book, SUMO: A Thinking Fan’s Guide to Japan’s National Sport, published by Tuttle, has been in print—in two editions—for 35 years.

My wife and I have owned a small apartment in Paris since 1995. We return and work there for three to six months every year. When we head to Paris during the football season, we’re cut off from the easy TV access to NFL games that we enjoy when we’re at home in Madison. Until recently, the NFL graciously—but profitably—alleviated my “Packer debt” by sending live game broadcasts overseas through NFL Game Pass. This streaming service was, initially, somewhat fuzzy and clunky but it grew better over the years. I was more than happy to pay the NFL a premium to watch Packers games in Paris.

It was clear then that the National Football, while making money from the service, was equally committed to expanding its reach and staying in touch with its fans, no matter how far we might roam.

But in 2023, during an autumn stay in Paris, I tried to access NFL Game Pass on my laptop and was greeted by the appearance of a logo, “DAZN,” which disappeared almost immediately and left me with a black screen. There was no explanation of who was this DAZN. I had no idea why my screen had gone black and why it was suddenly impossible to sign up for a season of NFL football.

A series of subsequent efforts to access information about DAZN on the NFL’s website swiftly returned me to the fleeting “DAZN” logo and the impenetrable black screen.

Of course, I undertook research on DAZN and figured out, although quite elliptically, that the National Football League had offloaded its international broadcast functions to this outfit. My inquiry was not easy. DAZN is a shadowy organization. I could have, I think, more easily, accessed the names of several CIA agents operating undercover in France. However, through sheer obstinacy, I was able to extract from the labyrinth of DAZN secrecy an email address for “Help” in restoring my access to Packers games.

This small victory presented fresh difficulties. In a sluggish series of email exchanges with correspondents with names like “Brenda” and “Abdul,” I came to the obvious realization that “Brenda” and “Abdul” were not actual human beings. They’re algorithms loaded with prefabricated answers to questions that DAZN is loath to answer in any case, but unequipped to do so either helpfully or coherently.

In my exchanges with Brenda and Abdul, I received no solution to my banishment from NFL Game Pass. Brenda and Abdul did respond with extended step-by-step instructions on how to access, sign up and subscribe to DAZN’s elusive NFL service, but this circuitous “help” accomplished only two outcomes. Steps that Brenda and Abdul proposed either ended up circling me back to a previous step—over and over again—or, I found myself once more staring at that maddening black screen.

However, despite the fact that I’m basically analog, I have over many years learned a few digital tricks. So, without prompting from DAZN’s digital elves, I undertook—just to see what would happen—to upgrade the OS on my Mac laptop.

Lo and behold, suddenly, the black screen slid away and DAZN’s panoply of live sports video unfolded before my wondering eyes.

This was a short-lived thrill.

In the long run, obtaining access to NFL Game Pass through DAZN didn’t effectively fill my life with football. It did, however, serve to fill DAZN’s bank account with my money.

Here’s how DAZN works. First, they offer a dazzling host of subscription options ranging from a one-week “free trial” to monthly and annual packages. For example, by signing up for the 30-day option, the NFL fan agrees to pay a reasonable sum and provides DAZN with a credit card number. Then, the fan sits back and waits for Sunday, tuning into DAZN, his new NFL Game Pass provider, before the game.

But there’s no game. There’s just a “DAZN” logo, which disappears almost immediately, leaving behind that dread black screen. The fan deems himself (or herself) at fault for somehow screwing up DAZN’s complicated sign-up process. With the game almost ready to kick off, the fan maneuvers to DAZN’s website again, signs up hurriedly and pays again. The game comes on. Victory?

No.

The fan is unaware that his first 30-day sign-up was properly executed. By re-upping just before the game, the fan has unwittingly signed up for two subscriptions. Both subscriptions are now in effect and they have somehow become—here’s the best part—not annual but eternal. DAZN has the fan’s credit card number and, with it, the power to charge a monthly fee—mine is $41.25—forever, even in months when there’s no NFL football. DAZN can justify this extortion because it purveys a vast range of European sports like soccer and team handball for which the NFL fan did not sign up, but which—now that he’s in the clutches of DAZN—he cannot escape.

Well then, you ask, why don’t I just “cancel” DAZN?

Believe me. I’ve tried, first through the agency of Brenda and Abdul, my non-doing algorithms. This, to make very long story short, had no effect.

Interestingly, DAZN’s website offers instructions on canceling a subscription. It goes like this:
• Go to www.dazn.com and sign in
• Select “My Account” from the menu and then “Subscription”
• Select “Cancel subscription”
• A pop-up will appear with contact details to speak to an agent to cancel your account… (Yada yada yada)

As you might guess, this is a dead end. After one accesses “My Account,” there appears no prompt to “Cancel subscription.” It does not exist. This non-option renders out of reach—in a sort of “Waiting for Godot” black comedy—the next step, of talking to an “agent” (possibly Brenda or Abdul in person!). I know this vicious cycle because I went through the process at least six times, even through several alternative websites not affiliated with DAZN.

I should note that there has sprung up a sort of cottage industry of websites—run by what might be deemed digital scalpers—that offer, for a fee, assistance in canceling one’s seemingly uncancelable bondage to DAZN. Of course, having been repeatedly bitten by DAZN, I’m more than twice shy. I have not graced any of these websites with my credit info.

I should also note that, if you google the words “DAZN” and “cancel,” you will discover an entire community of overseas NFL fans who have been robbed and frustrated by DAZN, who have struggled—and failed—to cut ties with DAZN, who describe this service with anger and profanity and who, by extension, have come to regret and repudiate their lifelong devotion to the NFL.

Having been foiled in my cancelation efforts, I resorted in December last year to my credit card provider and talked to a real person. I explained my problem. The real person agreed to put a “block” on my $41.25 payment to DAZN.

A month later, my credit-card bill included a $41.25 charge paid to DAZN. I was miffed but hardly surprised. Another call to my credit provider led me to another real person, who explained to me that DAZN can sidestep a credit-card block by billing me through some sort of alternate merchant code. This person blocked DAZN again. But he warned me that DAZN could keep dunning me indefinitely, by simply switching to another of the many alternate merchant codes in its arsenal of burglary tools.

DAZN, in essence, is the equivalent of an all-out blitz, overwhelming blockers with more rushers than the offense can put in their way.
I will continue to fight DAZN. However, I think it not unreasonable that I ask you, on behalf of my fellow NFL fans—in the names of Lambeau, Halas, Lombardi and Pete Rozelle, to cease your league’s association with an organization designed and structured to commit deception and extortion against your fans.

I understand that overseas NFL fans are a tiny percentage of your followers. We’re insignificant, especially balanced against the likely millions of euros that DAZN pays you for the right to rip off suckers like me.

However, if the concept of “fair play” still guides the ethos of the National Football, you have the opportunity to act on that principle, regain control of NFL Game Pass and evict these crooked bastards from the lives of some of your most loyal fans.

Sincerely,