It's Super Bowl Week (which lasts two weeks to fully aggrandize a game), so indulge me another post about football.
The hot news this week, much to the chagrin on National Football League executives, is all about badly missed calls in the NFC and AFC Championship games last Sunday. Fans of the New Orleans Saints and the Kansas City Chiefs think their teams were robbed of Super Bowl slots because of bad officiating.
Gripes about the officiating are common in all sports that leave some key penalties and declarations in the hands of referees, umpires and officials. Most of these calls involve some human judgment, which is fallible. What makes last Sunday's gripes a little different is that the faulty judgment was displayed in slow motion and seemed clearly mistaken. The Saints complained vociferously about a pass interference incident that was not called. The game officials did not see a violation of the rules and made no call. In the AFC game, the Chiefs complained that game officials' quickness to call penalties that were not flagrant or obvious — no harm, no foul, play-on situations — or a game-changing call that was simply mistaken. These calls were made in the crucial final minutes of the close game. The most egregious was a roughing-the-passer call (15-yard penalty) that replay showed didn't happen. The defensive lineman's swipe at Patriots' QB Tom Brady missed him entirely.
In nearly every game played there are missed calls, sins of commission or sins of omission by the officials. Most of the time, these missed calls balance out, and both teams have some justification for their grievances. But these were division championship games, and the missed calls were more obvious than is usual.
The NFL has tried to reduce game-changing mistakes by incorporating reviews of instant replays that frequently overturn the instantaneous opinions of the referees. But instant replay reviews take time and are frustrating for fans and teams. Neither of the key penalties in the division championships were reviewable under current rules. Those rules might change, but don't expect changes that second-guesses every call on the field. That would be chaotic.
Fans and teams will have to accept that calling penalties on the football field is an inexact science hindered by human frailty. Instant replay can only do so much, and videos can be as misleading and as misjudged as live action.
Enjoy the game on Feb. 3 and hope for fewer controversial calls.
Showing posts with label Super Bowl. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Super Bowl. Show all posts
Thursday, January 24, 2019
Friday, February 2, 2018
Football, Super Bowls and the future
This Super Bowl weekend, numerous articles are pointing out the decline in the popularity of the National Football League. President Trump has suggested the decline in NFL game TV ratings is the result of players' protests during the pregame National Anthem. More sober analyses show many factors account for the ratings decline, including the "cut the cord" movement (which has resulted in an overall decline in network/cable viewing), the lack of success by fans' favorite teams (Dallas Cowboys and others) and individual players (Cam Newton and others), and the acknowledgement that traumatic brain injuries are plaguing the entire sport.
Another factor, largely unacknowledged, is the never-ending hype of the networks and the NFL to cram two entire weeks of anticipation into the calendar before the Super Bowl takes place. Sunday's game is scheduled for 6:30, but NBC's coverage of the game begins at noon. That strikes me as a textbook definition of overkill. Fans' capacity for minute details and "expert" opinions has been stretched beyond the breaking point.
This all-day coverage is aimed at selling more high-priced commercial time, of course. The Super Bowl captures the largest annual viewership and charges the highest quarter-minute price for commercials. Super Bowl commercials have become an event almost as anticipated as the game itself.
In the 52-year history (or the LII history if you're into the NFL's pretentious Roman numerals) of Super Bowls, I've probably closely watched 46 (that XLVI) of them. I'll watch number LII Sunday, even though my favorite teams faltered in the regular season or playoffs and won't be on the field.
Despite its inherent violent collisions and dangers of serious, even permanent, injury, football can provide moments of beauty, such as a perfectly arced pass that drops the football into the receiver's hand 60 yards from where it was unleashed, a sudden zig-zag that frees a runner to scamper into the end zone past prostate defensive players who were faked out by the move, or a ballet-like leap into the air to snag a pass and return to earth within the painted lines on the field.
These moments are why I still watch the game, even though I find college football more interesting and exciting. Both collegiate and professional football are facing an existential threat in the form of crippling brain traumas that leave retired players with severe mental disabilities and/or dementia. Participation in football is declining at the middle school and high school level. Parents are reluctant to allow their sons to play a game that can result in their permanent disability. Without youth football to supply the apprentices to the college and pro games, the sport cannot survive. Even though the NFL and the NCAA have imposed new rules to limit the severity of collisions to the head and neck, the hazard of debilitating concussions and dementia persists. Better helmets don't seem to be the answer.
I'll watch the Super Bowl Sunday knowing that the event might not reach its ninety-ninth year (that would be Super Bowl IC), and I will look forward to the start of the college football season (although my team isn't doing well) with all its hoopla, youthful excitement, and perfect blue skies. It's one of the reasons I love the autumn.
Another factor, largely unacknowledged, is the never-ending hype of the networks and the NFL to cram two entire weeks of anticipation into the calendar before the Super Bowl takes place. Sunday's game is scheduled for 6:30, but NBC's coverage of the game begins at noon. That strikes me as a textbook definition of overkill. Fans' capacity for minute details and "expert" opinions has been stretched beyond the breaking point.
This all-day coverage is aimed at selling more high-priced commercial time, of course. The Super Bowl captures the largest annual viewership and charges the highest quarter-minute price for commercials. Super Bowl commercials have become an event almost as anticipated as the game itself.
In the 52-year history (or the LII history if you're into the NFL's pretentious Roman numerals) of Super Bowls, I've probably closely watched 46 (that XLVI) of them. I'll watch number LII Sunday, even though my favorite teams faltered in the regular season or playoffs and won't be on the field.
Despite its inherent violent collisions and dangers of serious, even permanent, injury, football can provide moments of beauty, such as a perfectly arced pass that drops the football into the receiver's hand 60 yards from where it was unleashed, a sudden zig-zag that frees a runner to scamper into the end zone past prostate defensive players who were faked out by the move, or a ballet-like leap into the air to snag a pass and return to earth within the painted lines on the field.
These moments are why I still watch the game, even though I find college football more interesting and exciting. Both collegiate and professional football are facing an existential threat in the form of crippling brain traumas that leave retired players with severe mental disabilities and/or dementia. Participation in football is declining at the middle school and high school level. Parents are reluctant to allow their sons to play a game that can result in their permanent disability. Without youth football to supply the apprentices to the college and pro games, the sport cannot survive. Even though the NFL and the NCAA have imposed new rules to limit the severity of collisions to the head and neck, the hazard of debilitating concussions and dementia persists. Better helmets don't seem to be the answer.
I'll watch the Super Bowl Sunday knowing that the event might not reach its ninety-ninth year (that would be Super Bowl IC), and I will look forward to the start of the college football season (although my team isn't doing well) with all its hoopla, youthful excitement, and perfect blue skies. It's one of the reasons I love the autumn.
Wednesday, February 10, 2016
Handling disappointment is part of being mature
I watched the Super Bowl, pulling for the Carolina Panthers all the way, just as I had through the regular season, hoping they might go undefeated. I was badly disappointed at the outcome, but it's only a football game.
After the game, Panthers QB Cam Newton took it a lot harder, as he should have. He had a lot more invested than I or any fan did. My disappointment was a tiny flicker compared to the bonfire burning within him. Nevertheless, I find Newton's behavior at the post-game news conference inexcusable. He was sullen. He hid beneath a hooded sweatshirt. He refused to answer questions, and he stalked out. That's just not the way a person with any sense of class or decent manners behaves.
I had been a fan of Newton since his days at Auburn (my daughter-in-law is an Auburn alumna), and I appreciated his child-like exuberance and his obvious joy at playing the game. None of this, however, excuses his ill behavior toward others after the Super Bowl ended.
His response to the inevitable criticism of that behavior only made matters worse. His rationale: "I am who I am. If you don't like it, that's your problem," or words to that effect. Newton is not alone in this attitude. In fact, this attitude might be the predominant one among entire generations of mostly youthful adults. That doesn't make it any less inexcusable.
This attitude had been widely proclaimed on a number of enigmatic Facebook posts a few years ago. They went like this: "I like the way I am. I'm not going to change. If you don't like it, get over it." This attitude has become prevalent, perhaps because public schools placed a high value on "self-esteem," and many parents were so busy giving their young children positive reinforcement that they failed to ever discipline them or punish unacceptable behavior. The "back to nature" movement of the 1970s also included a notion among some that children are born perfect, and society (especially parents) must not change them and ruin their perfectness.
That's a reversal of untold generations of child-rearing efforts that emphasized acclimating the child to the expectations of society — teaching good manners, respect for others, discipline, obedience, sympathy, empathy and all the other attitudes, talents and skills society values.
It's OK to be disappointed at a loss. It's OK to grieve. But it's not OK to be sullen, disrespectful of others and even antagonistic or angry toward people who were not responsible for your disappointment.
Instead of falling back on the "I'm me, and I'm happy this way, so it's your problem if you don't like it" excuse, a role model (which Newton certainly is) could improve society by modeling the kind of attitude and behavior that respects other people and accepts a world where my own selfish interests and concerns are not the most important things.
After the game, Panthers QB Cam Newton took it a lot harder, as he should have. He had a lot more invested than I or any fan did. My disappointment was a tiny flicker compared to the bonfire burning within him. Nevertheless, I find Newton's behavior at the post-game news conference inexcusable. He was sullen. He hid beneath a hooded sweatshirt. He refused to answer questions, and he stalked out. That's just not the way a person with any sense of class or decent manners behaves.
I had been a fan of Newton since his days at Auburn (my daughter-in-law is an Auburn alumna), and I appreciated his child-like exuberance and his obvious joy at playing the game. None of this, however, excuses his ill behavior toward others after the Super Bowl ended.
His response to the inevitable criticism of that behavior only made matters worse. His rationale: "I am who I am. If you don't like it, that's your problem," or words to that effect. Newton is not alone in this attitude. In fact, this attitude might be the predominant one among entire generations of mostly youthful adults. That doesn't make it any less inexcusable.
This attitude had been widely proclaimed on a number of enigmatic Facebook posts a few years ago. They went like this: "I like the way I am. I'm not going to change. If you don't like it, get over it." This attitude has become prevalent, perhaps because public schools placed a high value on "self-esteem," and many parents were so busy giving their young children positive reinforcement that they failed to ever discipline them or punish unacceptable behavior. The "back to nature" movement of the 1970s also included a notion among some that children are born perfect, and society (especially parents) must not change them and ruin their perfectness.
That's a reversal of untold generations of child-rearing efforts that emphasized acclimating the child to the expectations of society — teaching good manners, respect for others, discipline, obedience, sympathy, empathy and all the other attitudes, talents and skills society values.
It's OK to be disappointed at a loss. It's OK to grieve. But it's not OK to be sullen, disrespectful of others and even antagonistic or angry toward people who were not responsible for your disappointment.
Instead of falling back on the "I'm me, and I'm happy this way, so it's your problem if you don't like it" excuse, a role model (which Newton certainly is) could improve society by modeling the kind of attitude and behavior that respects other people and accepts a world where my own selfish interests and concerns are not the most important things.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Super Bowl's final minutes worth waiting for
Last night's Super Bowl lived up to its billing. The last four minutes or so were super football performances. Arizona's last touchdown drive and Pittsburgh's final winning drive were both things of beauty, turning what had been a lopsided first half into an exciting ending.
This was a Super Bowl in which I had no real favorite. My favored teams had fallen earlier in the playoffs, but I was still happy for Pittsburgh and Arizona. I had been a Steelers fan during their glory years of Chuck Knoll, Terry Bradshaw, Lynn Swann, John Stallworth, Mean Joe Greene and all the rest. But I also like to pull for the underdog, and the Arizona Cardinals certainly fit that description. Kurt Warner proved again that he's one of the top quarterbacks of the last two decades. Even with different teams and different talent levels, even with being benched in favor of a younger, glitzier quarterback, he quarterbacks as if he were prenatally designed for the job. The awarding of the Walter Payton trophy, the NFL's humanitarian award, to Warner before the game started was especially touching. Warner had been ignored by the NFL, turned into a league MVP and won a Super Bowl, then benched and overlooked again before coming back this season at an age when others would have been retired. Through it all, his character has been unchanging.
So I was sort of pulling for the Cardinals, and mostly for Warner. I was glad to see him put together that last touchdown drive. But the Steelers deserved to win. That final drive and that final TD pass will be talked about for years.
Now the NFL season is over. I'll miss the excitement over the next seven months, and I'll especially miss it after college basketball closes its season around the first of April. But like the fresh fall air and the spectacular autumn colors, football will return again. Baseball has its adherents and college basketball can be exciting, but, for me, American football, with its varied strategies as complex as chess and war and its combination of graceful moves and brute force is the ultimate distraction.
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