From Flores to the “Plantation Playbook”: How the NFL’s Sham Diversity Efforts Mirror America’s Retreat on Equity

Brian Flores Continues His Fight Against the NFL but Will It Bring Real Change?
By: Mykell Mathieu

The NFL will see peak competition on the field this season, but that’s not the only place competition exists.

Former Miami Dolphins coach Brian Flores sued the league in 2022 for racial discrimination in the hiring process, accusing the NFL of holding “sham” interviews with Black coaches to satisfy the Rooney Rule. The Rooney Rule, created in 2003, was designed to ensure that minority candidates would be interviewed for each head-coaching vacancy and other senior positions.

It has been three years since Flores filed his case, and there was little meaningful progress—until now.

On August 14, the 2nd U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals in Manhattan upheld Judge Valerie Caproni’s ruling that Flores can proceed with claims against the league and three teams: the Denver Broncos, New York Giants, and Houston Texans.

The court also criticized the NFL’s arbitration process, stating that the league’s constitution “contractually provides for no independent arbitral forum, no bilateral dispute resolution, and no procedure.” The ruling went further, saying, “Instead, it offends basic presumptions of our arbitration jurisprudence” by forcing claims to be decided by the NFL’s “principal executive officer.”

This trial moving forward is a big win for Flores and others involved. But the question remains: will it really matter?

The NFL is coming off a year in which there was a record nine Black head coaches leading teams. This season, that number has dropped to six.

Will these numbers have any impact on the lawsuit? Only time will tell.

I believe there will be some changes made to the interview and vetting process for Black and other minority coaches moving forward. How impactful those changes will be remains to be seen.

At the end of the day, the bigger question is: what can the NFL really do to sway owners and their organizations toward hiring minority coaches? The league can make sure interviews are legitimate, but it can’t control who ultimately gets hired.

Teams will always have multiple candidates to choose from. More inclusion of minority coaches in that pool should absolutely be a priority. But in the end, decisions often come down to either who is most qualified on paper or simply who a general manager or owner favors.

That’s why I—and many others—hope to see someone like Eric Bieniemy finally get an opportunity to become a head coach. But he will likely have to continue excelling as a coordinator and proving head-coaching traits to gain that trust.

Like Flores, now the defensive coordinator for the Minnesota Vikings, minority coaches will need to thrive in the positions they currently hold. Aaron Glenn is another example—after helping the Detroit Lions’ defense take a major step forward, he earned his new role with the New York Jets. Now, all eyes will be on how he performs there. Once you get your shot, you have to succeed—just as Mike Tomlin did with the Pittsburgh Steelers—to prove you belong.

Of course, it remains troubling to see a league with so many Black players but just six Black head coaches. Like the players, coaches have to earn their jobs—but the opportunities to do so must be fair.

The hope for this trial is that it produces a plan to truly monitor these interviews and ensure they are legitimate. But the truth is, no trial can force owners to make hires.

The Plantation’s Playbook: How the NFL’s Hollow Diversity Charade Betrays Its Black Coaches
By: Eric Lambkins II

The memory is a ghost, a haunting echo of a promise unkept. The Rooney Rule was born not from conscience but from pressure. It sounded noble—progressive even. It was supposed to open doors and shatter ceilings.

Twenty years later, the fabric is frayed, torn, and stained with hypocrisy.

Brian Flores, cast aside after winning against the odds, decided he’d had enough. Enough of sham interviews. Enough of executives going through the motions. Enough of text messages sent to the wrong Brian—the white Brian who got the job before Flores even walked in. Looking past the NFL’s $100 billion empire, Flores saw the truth.

Flores saw a plantation.

Let’s not mince words. The labor force is 70% Black. Ownership is 100% white. The power structure is a fortress, guarded by an impenetrable old boys’ club. The lords of the manor watch from skyboxes while players sacrifice their bodies and futures for enrichment and entertainment.

The NFL’s response to Flores’ courageous stand? A denial in under two hours. They spent months investigating deflated footballs, years blackballing Colin Kaepernick, but systemic racism was dismissed in 120 minutes.

And now they point to the numbers. Five Black head coaches! Progress! But the celebration rings hollow. Is it real change—or a public relations stunt designed to placate and silence?

We know this playbook. We’ve seen it before. The Rooney Rule, twisted into a box-checking exercise, parades candidates through rooms where decisions were made long before they entered. It’s Eric Bieniemy, architect of a dynasty offense, perpetually overlooked. It’s Steve Wilks, a “bridge coach” set up to fail. It’s Ray Horton, subjected to a fake interview for a job already filled.

This is the NFL’s version of diversity: a photo op, a statistic, a press-conference talking point. It is not a reckoning. It is a façade.

The league wants us to believe those five coaches are the finish line. Flores knows they are just the starting block. He isn’t fighting for a job; he’s fighting for a principle—for a future where a Black coach isn’t a token, an anomaly, or a Rooney Rule requirement. He’s fighting for a world where competence is rewarded, integrity isn’t punished, and true equity is possible.

Will the lawsuit fizzle? The NFL has resources to stall, delay, and outlast. They can hide behind numbers and claim the problem is solved. But the stain remains. The plantation’s carefully manicured image is cracking. The world is watching.

Flores’ suit is a Hail Mary against the wind, against the odds, against the establishment. It may fall incomplete—or it may be the touchdown that changes the game forever. The question isn’t whether the NFL can change. It’s whether we will hold them accountable if it doesn’t.

The NFL’s Diversity Problem: Hollow Gestures in a Nation Turning Back the Clock
By: Jackie Rae

Both of my colleagues have expressed something I simply don’t have.  Mykell Mathieu, hopes the trial will lead to a path forward. Eric Lambkins II, although far more cynical, believes Brian Flores and his lawsuit will only bring about real change if we, the fans, hold the NFL accountable. 

I believe neither is true. If every Black coach joined forces and presented undeniable evidence of discrimination, blackballing, or sabotage, the NFL would respond the way it always does: with denial. 

The deeper problem is that the NFL has no incentive to change. Team owners—billionaires shielded by tax breaks—answer to no one but themselves. They fill their stadiums, collect their TV money, and shrug off criticism. Diversity, equity, and inclusion are not values they must defend; they are obstacles they can ignore.

This mirrors a larger national pattern. Under the current Trump administration, we are watching the deliberate dismantling of diversity efforts across society. Black history is being stripped from classrooms and museums. DEI programs are being eliminated in businesses and universities. Tax codes continue to favor the wealthy elite while ordinary people are left behind. If billionaires like NFL owners are rewarded for maintaining the status quo, why would they ever pursue equity on their own?

The answer is simple: they won’t.

This is where Flores’s fight intersects with America’s broader reckoning. It is not just about football. It is about power—who holds it, who benefits from it, and who is locked out. When 70% of NFL players are Black but ownership remains all white, the league reflects the same plantation dynamics Flores dared to name. Players sacrifice their bodies for entertainment and profit, while the doors to leadership remain tightly shut.

Critics may say, “Change takes time.” But 20 years of the Rooney Rule has not delivered equality—it has delivered photo ops and press releases. Time is not the issue; will is. And right now, the NFL has none.

This is not just a football problem. It is America’s problem. And unless we confront it with urgency, both the league and the nation will continue to hide behind hollow gestures while inequality deepens.

This is a topic that can no longer be debated. To quote Dr. Strange, “We’re in the end game now.” Much like Thanos had to wipe out half of humanity before the Avengers could find a solution—the bottom will have to fall out for the NFL, and perhaps even the nation, in order for us to rise into a new era of equality.