On Topic: Foul play

Where does the employer's responsibility - or, put another way, blame - start and end when an employee misbehaves - or, put another way, acts like a despicable thug - publicly?

And does it - should it - make any difference when said disgrace goes viral across social media and is replayed seemingly in a continual loop on national television?

All of which brings us to the travails of the National Football League and running back Ray Rice.

To be precise, Rice was an employee of the Baltimore Ravens, not the NFL. But the league, its commissioner, Roger Goodell, as well as the Ravens have been splattered by the mud that's been splashed about since video footage was released showing Rice punching out his then-fiancée, Janay Palmer, in a casino elevator, then dragging her unconscious body around with all the respect you'd devote to a sack of potatoes.

As public outrage mounted, stories about other NFL players gained heightened attention - about Adrian Peterson of the Minnesota Vikings 'spanking” his four-year-old son with a tree branch, causing open wounds, and Jonathan Dwyer of the Arizona Cardinals being arrested on suspicion of domestic violence.

And the stories about Michael Vick and his involvement in the torture, killing and fighting of dogs back in 2007 when he was with the Atlanta Falcons continue to resurface.

Vick's fans have called for forgiveness since then, just as some female fans of Rice have been photographed displaying a hand-lettered sign reading, 'Forgive,” with the 'o” drawn in the shape of a heart.

After all, they seem to suggest, NFL players, by job description, are big men who are given large sums of money and regularly smash into each other in a violent manner. It's not badminton. What do you expect, from time to time?

But sponsors such as PepsiCo and Anheuser-Busch haven't been as willing to let bygones be bygones so quickly, and Nike has dropped Rice.

Here's where things went wrong for Goodell: First, he handed out a two-game ban for Rice's actions. Then the commissioner decided that, in future, players caught for first-time domestic abuse would be out for six games.

Then the elevator video showed up on TMZ, and Goodell suspended Rice indefinitely. The commissioner sent a letter to team owners in late August that stated that, going forward, a second incident of domestic violence would constitute a lifetime ban for any player.

Rice and the NFL Players Association appealed the suspension - 'to protect due-process rights of all NFL players” the NFLPA said - and a former U.S. District judge was named on Oct. 2 to preside over the hearing.

A date for that arbitration hadn't been set as of last Sunday, when I wrote this column. But even if it's all done and dusted by the time you read this, Goodell, as a boss and as head of the NFL, doesn't look Lincolnesque in the leadership department.

Goodell, it seems, has been suffering almost as much public venom as Rice, with a number of groups calling for Goodell to step down. Who's the bad guy here?

In the meantime, the NFL has tried to spruce up its image: Four outside advisers - all women - have been brought on sift through how the organization should decide punishment for domestic-abuse incidents.

Better late than never, of course. The lesson here, for businesses small and large, is to have in place a common-sense policy that they can and will stick by, in all cases.

So when employees behave reprehensively - on or off the job - everyone knows what will happen next.