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David Gregory interviews President Obama
On: Challenging the NFL
by: Joshua Howell
On: Challenging the NFL
by: Joshua Howell
Broadly speaking, the rules of football
exist for four reasons: to define what is quintessential to the game, to
protect its players from ruinous injuries, to maintain the acme of competiveness
and to codify the ideal of sportsmanship.
The first is what distinguishes football
from, say, baseball—though a bit of roughhousing in America’s favorite pastime
would be amusing.
The second—safety—is why certain types of
tackles are illegal. “Targeting,” in which a player lowers his head and launches
himself at his opponent, often leads to concussions—a.k.a. brain damage—and is
therefore disallowed.
The third—maintaining competiveness—prohibits
teams from securing indefensible advantages. In college football, after a
penalty is assessed, there is a ten-second runoff. The reason: Penalties stop
the clock, and toward the end of the game, during which each second is more
important than the last, stopping the clock becomes so imperative that losing
five yards might be deemed a worthy sacrifice. There is, however, nothing the
defense can do to stop the offense from incurring a “penalty,” and thus the
ten-second runoff was added.
The fourth—sportsmanship—is grayer than the
preceding three, though no one would argue that coaches should be free to curse
at referees, nor should excessive celebrations or taunting be permitted.
Which brings us, inexorably, to an obscure procedure
regarding the ability, or inability, of head coaches to request official
reviews on plays. It does little but complicate what is otherwise a
straightforward game.
The rule was recently applied in a matchup
between the Detroit Lions and the Houston Texans. During play, Texans running
back Justin Forsett fell to his elbows
and knees
while carrying the ball. There the play should have ended, but the referees did
not blow their whistles, play continued, and Forsett went on to score a touchdown.
In effect, it was little more than a simple
officiating error—it happens, even when the replacement referees aren’t on the
field. So doing what seemed reasonable, Lions head coach Jim Schwartz threw his
challenge flag, asking for an immediate review of the play. Two minutes later, after
much, if odd, discussion, the referees broke the news: Scoring and turnover
plays are automatically reviewed unless the coach throws his challenge
flag. Therefore, the touchdown would stand and the Lions would be given a 15-yard
penalty per regulations.
A month later, Packers head coach Mike
McCarthy threw a challenge flag on a supposedly lost fumble—a turnover play,
which should trigger an automatic review.
Conceivably, Coach McCarthy’s punishment
should have been the same as Coach Schwartz’s. However, because the process to initiate the automatic review had already commenced, the
play could be reexamined, though Coach McCarthy and the Packers would still be
charged with a 15-yard penalty.
If the reader is confused, he is not alone.
First and foremost, kudos to the officials
for having a strong understanding of the rules and applying them judiciously;
they are professionals in every sense of the word. But referees should not be
the sporting equivalent of Supreme Court justices, who hand down rulings from
Mount Olympus based on obscure legal technicalities.
No one watches football to sort through
these complications. Football is not chess, which requires one to have a deep
knowledge of the game’s complexities to enjoy. The sport exists so that fans
might decompress after a week’s worth of tedious work. It gives men a chance to
escape to their respective man caves, beers in hand, while their wives and
girlfriends watch… Downton Abbey? The Real Housewives of Wherever?
(My apologies to the many female lovers of
the game, I only joke. Unless, that is, you are a Longhorns fan, in which case
your opinions are irrelevant and my “apologies” are insincere. Thanks and gig ‘em.)
When the NFL’s Competition Committee
considers revising this burdensome challenge bylaw, they should ask themselves four
questions:
Does it guard something inherent to the
game? No, deeming it “auxiliary” would be flattering.
Does it protect the players from injury? No,
it has nothing to do with protecting players.
Does it make the game more competitive? No,
it circumscribes competition by ensuring certain plays will be called
incorrectly.
Does it codify sportsmanship? No, unless throwing
a red flag two feet onto a field is unsportsmanlike conduct, in which case
football has bigger problems than this.
If need be, have the coach lose one of his
three challenges due to his ignorance of the rules. But with due respect to the
Competition Committee, the question of whether this belongs in the game is
easily answered.
