Doyel: ESPN's Pat McAfee pays Aaron Rodgers, he's an accomplice to Rodgers' anti-vax poison

Gregg Doyel
Indianapolis Star
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The war is over – the good guys won – but Aaron Rodgers emerges from his burrow every Tuesday, appears on a show with millions of viewers and says something stupid about COVID-19 vaccines. Like, they don’t work. Like, vaccines are actually a capitalist trick played on us idiots by Big Pharma.

Rodgers says what he says, and normally you wouldn’t hear a peep from me. Not anymore, anyway, because it’s like I said earlier: The war is over. Even with vaccines, are people still testing positive? Well, yes. They still test positive for the flu despite flu vaccines, too, but most of us understand vaccine efficacy is a numbers game. We’re playing the odds, most of us, and the odds of this world beating Covid – and not vice versa – went up with every person who took the vaccine.

Skirmishes remain as the coronavirus morphs this way and that, trying to find another foothold, but mass vaccines have led to mass victory. Herd immunity, you might say. The good guys, those of us who made or administered or simply took the vaccine, we won it.

You’re welcome, Aaron.

But every Tuesday, Aaron Rodgers emerges from his rathole and looks around smugly, enjoying the smell of his own (breath), and says something really, really stupid about vaccines. And because we live in this cult of fame, liking and believing and even electing people only because they’re rich or famous, people believe Rodgers. So he’s out there, every Tuesday, saying something that makes us less safe.

And normally, fine. Rodgers is one of those really smart dumb guys, or really dumb smart guys. Whatever he is, he’s a crackpot like Robert F. Kennedy Jr., and not worth the energy. Not anymore.

But this is where it gets a little bit sad, a whole lot disappointing, and absolutely terrifying – for me. Because you may be noticing, yes, you are hearing a peep. Aaron Rodgers, today, is worth my energy. Know why?

Because Rodgers has an accomplice in Pat McAfee.

Love me some Pat McAfee, too – but what the hell, Pat?

Nobody takes on Pat McAfee. Nobody with any understanding of how this world works, anyway. For those who don’t know, here’s how the world works:

Taking on somebody as popular as Pat McAfee is a losing proposition of blowout proportions, especially for the media, especially “old” media like a newspaper. The bros like their Bud Light and Draft Kings, not their newspapers, and they love them some Pat McAfee. You can understand why.

We all know McAfee’s charisma is off the charts. Hell, we gave birth to ESPN’s most ubiquitous personality, and by “we,” I mean our NFL franchise, our city, even my own newspaper. McAfee’s first regular public show was a weekly show in 2013 with the IndyStar, where his charm and humor were a revelation.

McAfee is so talented, so brilliant – he gave me a behind-the scenes peek at one of his first comedy shows, and I’ll never forget what I saw him do – that he retired from the Colts at age 29 in 2017, turning down an annual salary of $2.9 million because he knew there was more to do, even more money to be made. He went to Barstool Sports, soon left those sexist clown-bros to create his own network, then was gobbled up by ESPN.

Doyel , Part I: Backstage with Pat McAfee; Gregg Doyel's all-access pass

Doyel Part II: On stage with Pat McAfee, a natural at comedy; Doyel's all-access pass Part II

Doyel in 2017: Someday people will say, "Didn't Pat McAfee used to punt?"

Now he’s everywhere. The Pat McAfee Show is live on ESPN platforms weekdays from noon-3 p.m. He’s a regular on ESPN’s Saturday morning staple, College GameDay, the show’s next huge personality.

Between his personal accounts on Twitter, Instagram, YouTube and TikTok, McAfee has more than 7.6 million followers. Combine that with ESPN’s enormous audience, and his show had 242 million views in its first four weeks with the company. Read that number again: 242 million views in four weeks.

Which is why it’s a little bit sad, a whole lot disappointing, and absolutely terrifying – to me – to have to write this story.

And make no mistake, I have to write it. Here’s the thing about principles: They’re easy to have, until it’s time to have them. When it comes to the coronavirus and the way the conservative movement made it worse, for reasons known only to some of them – because most of those people still have no idea how badly they were misled – I can’t ignore someone like Aaron Rodgers. Not when he comes onto the show of a city icon, Pat McAfee, who still lives here and tapes his show from here and will forever be associated with Indianapolis.

And most of the time, like 99.9% of the time, our city is richer for it. Pat McAfee is ours. Lucky us.

But once a week, for a few minutes every Tuesday, McAfee lets Aaron Rodgers come onto his show and say the absolute stupidest stuff.

Like, “If the vaccine is so great, then how come people are still getting Covid?”

Like calling Chiefs tight end Travis Kelce, who has recorded PSA spots urging people to get vaccinated, “Mr. Pfizer.”

Like calling Dr. Anthony Fauci, the former U.S. chief medical officer who withstood death threats from completely deranged anti-vaxxers to lead us out of the Covid darkness, “a pharmacrat.”

It’s Rodgers who says those things, but it’s McAfee who lets it happen. And here are two sentences that will absolutely blow your mind:

One, Rodgers is making more than $1 million annually to come on McAfee’s show and spread dangerous misinformation.

Two, McAfee doesn’t believe Rodgers for a minute.

ESPN silenced Sage Steele, allows this?

You wonder what Sage Steele thinks.

Remember Steele? Another anti-vaxxer, another disseminator of dangerously dumb personal opinions who was actually suspended by ESPN in 2021 for spreading her poisonous seeds. She resigned from ESPN earlier this year, citing her desire for freedumb, sorry, freedom of speech. Which goes to show there are media members who don’t understand the First Amendment any more than some non-media folks.

Point being, ESPN wasn’t going to let Sage Steele enjoy ESPN’s pulpit to spout her nonsense.

So why is ESPN letting Aaron Rodgers enjoy that same pulpit – on McAfee’s show – to spout his nonsense?

And why is Aaron Rodgers making more than $1 million to do it?

McAfee isn't touching the topic, for what it's worth. I sent him a text, making clear my topic and opinion, and Pat being Pat he found a charming way to decline comment.

"No thank you Gregg," McAfee texted back. "Good luck with your article. Hope all is well. Cheers."

Rodgers was a four-time MVP with the Packers, but his anti-vax gibberish makes him a harmful member of the human race. McAfee lets it happen, and up to a certain point – that point where principles are easy to have, until it’s time blah blah blah – you can understand. Rodgers has done McAfee’s career a huge service by appearing on his show. McAfee was going to take off regardless, because he’s that good, but Rodgers’ appearances put booster fuel into the rocket ship.

McAfee explained Rodgers’ enormous fee to the N.Y. Post last week by saying his company has risen from a valuation of $5 million to $500 million with help from Rodgers. McAfee is understandably grateful, so when Rodgers leans back smugly, enjoying the smell of his own (breath) and says something stupid about vaccines, McAfee just giggles and moves on.

An example from last week:

Rodgers is on the Pat McAfee Show and reminding us how smart he is, touting the unorthodox procedure he sought for his torn Achilles’ tendon, when McAfee’s co-host, A.J. Hawk, says something about Rodgers doing things “his way.”

Now McAfee starts riffing on that: “This guy (Rodgers) does stuff his own way. He actually defies science."

Rodgers smiles, enjoying the smell of his own (breath), and says: "If science is Dr. Fauci, you're damn right I’m defying it.”

Oh boy. That isn’t where McAfee thought the conversation was going. He buries his face in his hands and says helplessly: “All right, OK, that one’s on me.”

Then he cackles uncomfortably and transitions to something else. Anything else.

McAfee doesn’t believe Rodgers, see. There’s just no way. Unlike Rodgers and people of his ilk, people who think they’re the smartest guy in the room, McAfee is the smartest guy in the room. He also was born with a second serving of empathy. He’s a good man with a good heart, Pat McAfee. He understands vaccines are the only reason the war is over, the only reason the good guys won.

For some reason, though, he gives Aaron Rodgers a few minutes every week to say whatever he wants, and Rodgers wants to spout disproven anti-vaxxer nonsense and dangerous conspiracy theories. Why does McAfee do it? Why does ESPN let him?

And why, bro – after reading this story – are you mad at me?

Find IndyStar columnist Gregg Doyel on Twitter at @GreggDoyelStar or at www.facebook.com/greggdoyelstar.

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