The NFL Franchise Tag Must Go Away and Never Come Back

Most of us have things we do that we can't explain. We started doing these things for a reason, but even if that reason no longer exists we continue to do them out of habit.

I know a 28-year-old woman who still peeks under her bed for monsters every night, not because she's lost her mind but because she developed that habit when said mind still figured monsters were real and posed a threat.

I continue to refrigerate my bread, despite the fact that everyone on the internet says that'll dry it out and cause it to go stale faster than if I left it on the counter.

I have friends who keep their daily schedules and make grocery lists using pen and paper, despite the fact that there are a multitude of apps for that.

I know a guy who religiously uses an old-fashioned TV guide, ignoring the GUIDE button on his remote.

And I know a sports league that continues to allow teams to handcuff a select few unsigned players, preventing them from being able to negotiate on the open market despite the fact that all of their peers possess that freedom.

The franchise tag was implemented in 1993 in order to ease the transition into an open market as the NFL finally adopted free agency. It gave teams the ability to retain one particular free agent per year via a one-year tender at a fixed rate (no less than the average of the top five salaries at the player’s position, or 120 percent of the player's previous salary, whichever was greater).

But it's been 23 years. The transition to free agency was long ago complete. The salary cap has made it impossible for all of the large-market teams to snap up all of the elite free agents, and teams have been given nearly a quarter-century to adjust their strategies in order to account for the dynamics of the free-agent market.

Player	Team	Price	Status
K Justin Tucker	Ravens	$4.6 million	Signed tender
OT Cordy Glenn	Bills	$13.7 million	Signed long-term deal
WR Alshon Jeffery	Bears	$14.6 million	Signed tender
OLB Von Miller	Broncos	$14.1 million	Unsigned
S Eric Berry	Chiefs	$10.8 million	Unsigned
CB Trumaine Johnson	Rams	$14.0 million	Signed tender
DE Muhammad Wilkerson	Jets	$15.7 million	Unsigned
QB Kirk Cousins	Redskins	$20.0 million	Signed tender

The franchise tag no longer serves a purpose other than to enable teams to severely restrict the rights that are supposed to belong to all veteran players with expired contracts.

Teams typically love it because it allows them to take a short-term approach in a short-term league without having to worry about competition. Players hate it because it takes away a huge opportunity for long-term security in a sport that rarely offers such a thing, and because it often feels as though it's a penalty for being good.

In an environment that has been built on collective bargaining, no major policies should be roundly adored by management and despised by employees.

It's a shame the tag survived the last round of CBA negotiations in 2011, but it's become apparent the players lost badly at the negotiating table that offseason. Expect a much bigger fight from the union in negotiations for the next CBA, which, barring a work stoppage, would have to be finalized by the start of the 2021 season.

Ideally, by then, the franchise tag will be swimming with the fishes.

The tag has become nothing more than a negotiation ploy. Players hit with the exclusive tag can still work out long-term deals with their respective teams, but they do not get to participate in free agency and thus have less leverage in contract negotiations. Those hit with the non-exclusive tag can still negotiate with all 32 NFL teams, but the market is usually pretty dry because teams have to surrender two first-round picks if they sign another team's non-exclusive franchise player.

For all intents and purposes, the tag forces the player to negotiate on his original team's terms, which usually means sacrificing millions of dollars on a long-term deal or risking his future by playing on a precarious (albeit lucrative) one-year deal.

Tom Szczerbowski/Getty Images

That's the dilemma Von Miller and Muhammad Wilkerson face. The two stud defenders are disgruntled because they've become the ultimate superstar victims of a system that enables teams to make victims of superstars.

Both Miller and Wilkerson played out all five years of their rookie contracts and are now left publicly fighting their own teams in battles over long-term deals. But the Denver Broncos know Miller is worth more than the $14.1 million he'll make under the tag, so they have no incentive to give him anything more than that. The New York Jets may feel the same way about paying Wilkerson $15.7 million for a single year of service.

The NFL established during the 2011 CBA negotiation period that the average career length was 9.3 years for a first-round pick and 11.7 years for a Pro Bowler. But there's evidence quarterbacks and offensive linemen bring those numbers up a little bit, and the Wall Street Journal reported in February that careers have been decreasing.

Precedents thus indicate that Miller and Wilkerson—both of whom will be 27 years old for the majority of the 2016 season—are peaking and will likely begin to decline in two or three years. So why commit to either player for half a decade right now, especially if you won't save much money in the short term? Why not instead force them to play the next two or three years under the franchise tag? Yes, the tag becomes a lot more expensive when applied a second or third time, but at the very least it makes business sense to use it for a year, maybe two.

Regardless, it's silly that Miller and Wilkerson could be forced to wait six, seven, maybe even eight years before having a chance to become proper free agents. By then, they could be as old as 30. Meanwhile, far less established non-first-round picks who came into the league on four-year deals are getting paid sick money on comfortable, long-term deals.

How is it fair that Miller and Wilkerson, strictly based on circumstance, could be forced to spend the majority of their careers without long-term security, while younger, less heralded front-seven defenders like 26-year-old Malik Jackson and 25-year-old Olivier Vernon—neither of whom have been to a Pro Bowl—enjoy new contracts that are worth a combined $170.5 million over the next six years?

Year	Tagged players	Long-term deals
2016	8	1 so far
2015	5	4
2014	4	2
2013	8	1
2012	21	11
Total	46	45%*

If the Broncos wanted to, they could go year-to-year with Miller for the next three seasons at a total cost of about $56 million. That's hardly more than Vernon is slated to make with the New York Giants, except with no long-term commitment. Strictly in terms of the numbers, that would make a hell of a lot more sense than signing him right now to a deal in excess of the six-year, $114.5 million contract the Broncos reportedly offered Miller earlier this month (per ESPN's Adam Schefter).

Can anybody expect Miller and/or Wilkerson to sit quietly in handcuffs? Can you blame a clearly emotional Miller for threatening not to play in 2016? Can you blame Wilkerson for continually expressing his frustration? Either potential Hall of Famer could see his career end tomorrow, and he'd be forced to walk away never having been paid like Olivier freakin' Vernon.

The thing is, when applied and fully utilized for a season, the tag isn't particularly good for anyone. Teams would rather not absorb that type of salary hit, and that cutthroat approach could alienate players and fans. The tag is costly, dangerous and potentially even bad for team morale.

At one point, it was a necessary evil.

Now, it's just evil.

It's time to stop doing things for the sake of doing them. Do away with the archaic franchise tag, and I'll do my part by leaving my bread on the counter.

Brad Gagnon has covered the NFL for Bleacher Report since 2012.

Follow @Brad_Gagnon