Might Aaron Rodgers’ shot at Jimmy Kimmel prove a fatal fumble for QB’s career in punditry?

Any question whether ESPN took Aaron Rodgers’ latest tryst with misinformation seriously disappeared the instant Pat McAfee appeared on his eponymous talk show on Wednesday, offering a half-baked apology for Rodgers’ antics the previous day.

Rodgers, you’ll remember, used his weekly appearance on McAfee’s show, for which he makes seven figures annually, to discuss the pending release of court papers related to Jeffrey Epstein, the famous financier and convicted sex trafficker. If a full roll call of Epstein’s celebrity friends becomes public, their reputations may never recover. And if you’re named as an associate of a man who made money procuring underaged sex workers, good luck convincing the public you hung out with Epstein for any other reason.

Rodgers, the 40-year-old New York Jets quarterback, giddily predicted that Jimmy Kimmel, the late night talk show host, would be outed as an Epstein crony.

“There’s a lot of people, including Jimmy Kimmel, really hoping that doesn’t come out,” Rodgers said. “If that list comes out, I definitely will be popping some sort of bottle.”

That’s borderline defamation. If you work in the media, you understand that. And if you don’t, it became clear when Kimmel responded to Rodgers on X, formerly known as Twitter.

“I’ve not met, flown with, visited, or had any contact whatsoever with Epstein,” Kimmel wrote. “Your reckless words put my family in danger. Keep it up and we will debate the facts further in court.”

McAfee then appeared Wednesday to try to explain the comments away, clad in a black long-sleeved shirt. The sleeves, of course, conveyed the situation’s gravity. McAfee defaults to tank tops, and might don a sleeveless t-shirt if he’s chilly. If his arms are covered at all, he might as well have on a three-piece suit. Serious wardrobe for a serious occasion, possibly after a serious talking-to by his bosses. 

When the documents were released on Thursday, Kimmel’s name wasn’t on them.

As of Thursday night, ESPN, which has spent the past six years urging its talent to Stick to Sports, hasn’t commented publicly on Rodgers’ latest attempt to tackle a controversial beyond-the-field topic. The fallout could be significant, and not just for the network that bills itself as The Worldwide Leader in Sports. Outlets across the entire media ecosystem are trying to figure out how to deal with misinformation, and could use some guidance on dealing with interview subjects who refuse to tell the truth. 

ESPN’s response to Rodgers’ backhanded smearing of Kimmel —  if it ever comes — could set an example.

For McAfee, the only question is if he had to scramble to find that sweater, or whether he keeps public apology formal wear on standby, waiting for Rodgers’ next embarrassing outburst.

Because, as long as Rodgers has a regular TV slot, “next” is inevitable. Whether he’s misleading people about his vaccination status, griping about being shadowbanned for his opinions, or stringing his team along on the hope of a return from a torn Achilles tendon, Rodgers demonstrates a strained relationship with the truth, and a fetish for the attention that follows his spicy sound bites. His media appearances aren’t journalism — if they were, somebody involved would show a stronger allegiance to the truth. Either Rodgers would feel compelled to tell it, or his interviewers would try to steer him back on track each time he veered into personal grievance and conspiracy theories.  

And his interviews barely qualify as entertainment, unless you find the smug disingenuousness Rodgers projects interesting. Clearly some segment of the audience does. For everyone else, it’s tough to find a combination more toxic than Aaron Rodgers and a microphone.

So why do people keep handing him one?

For McAfee, it’s simple. He owns his show and licenses it to ESPN for a reported average of $17 million a year. He also has three hours of airtime to fill every weekday afternoon, a nearly bottomless content hole that a talkative regular guest like Rodgers can help him fill. And whatever you think of Rodgers now, he was, as recently as 2020, best known as a star quarterback for an iconic NFL franchise. He was refreshingly bright and likeable, and served as a pitchman for State Farm Insurance and a guest host on Jeopardy.

And for ESPN, it’s not that complex. McAfee has a massive audience, which travels with him to ESPN weekday afternoons, and which helps explain the steep licensing fee. The package ESPN is paying for includes Rodgers, who uses his spot on McAfee’s show to discuss day-to-day sports, to pontificate about vaccines, and to make important announcements, like his recent revelation that his torn Achilles tendon would, in fact, sideline him for the whole season. 

This latest outburst could complicate that relationship.

Vaccine misinformation can cost lives, especially this winter, when low vaccination rates have been identified as a factor driving a COVID-19 resurgence. But when Rodgers derided Travis Kelce as “Mr Pfizer” after the Kansas City Chiefs tight end appeared in a commercial promoting vaccination, the slight was dismissed as harmless teasing between Pro Bowl peers.

And when Rodgers teased an improbable comeback from his Achilles injury, the only real victims were the New York Jets, who could have signed a competent interim pivot instead awaiting Rodgers’ return. The Jets can’t pick a fight with ESPN because Rodgers chose to admit the obvious — that a 40-year-old can’t rebound from major surgery in three months — on McAfee’s show.

But to use that same platform to suggest Kimmel, whose show airs on ABC, which, like ESPN, is owned by Disney, socializes with a convicted trafficker of teenaged sex workers, crosses a thick, bold, bright, barbed-wire line. It’s not like spouting a hot take you can walk back if time proves you wrong, or reporting Shohei Ohtani is on a plane to Toronto when he’s still at home in L.A. The false suggestion that somebody is a sexual predator can cause real reputational damage, which is why Kimmel proposed that they continue this debate in court. 

McAfee has promised Rodgers will return soon, and clarify what he meant, which could mean backtracking, like when he finally admitted that “immunized” doesn’t mean “vaccinated,” or coming clean, like he did about his injury.

Or he might just apologize, which would be a welcome and refreshing change from the Rodgers we’ve been seeing since 2021.

I would still fact check him.

A contrite Aaron Rodgers is still Aaron Rodgers.