Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Stupid Like A Fox!

John Fox, my junior high science teacher, who once challenged a kid to a fight during class, probably could have done a better job managing the Panther offense than did John Fox, the Panther's head coach, during the Monday night game against the Cowboys.

With 5:07 left, down by two touchdowns, the Panthers took over at their own 20. At the two minute warning they had the ball at the Dallas 40. Needing two touchdowns, they used over 60% of the remaining clock to get halfway to the end zone once. (A few plays later they turned the ball over on a fumble.) They had two timeouts and inexplicably never called one during the drive. I guess John "stupid like a" Fox was saving them. After all, it's pretty important to use your last timeout, down 14, when the other team has the ball, 1st down, with 46 seconds left. Making the opposing quarterback take a knee twice instead of once, in that situation, is huge.

Not only did the Panthers not use their timeouts, they never took a serious shot down field during their last drive. (This might be more the fault of quarterback Jake Delhomme than John Fox, though.) Their longest pass was 12 yards on a running back dump off. You have to start going for some high risk / high reward plays in that instance. Especially, if you have a game-breaker like Steve Smith and two big, physical jump ball targets like Muhsin Muhammed and Dante Rosario. There is no excuse for being so conservative in that situation. If you turn the ball over taking a shot, so be it. Putting off a loss is not the same thing as going for a win. I don't think most NFL coaches understand this.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

One From the Fleming File

Here's a sweet article by David Fleming posted on ESPN Page 2. The bold statements are mine.

BUT HERE'S THE CATCH....

By David Fleming

You know something is totally messed up in the NFL when Oakland Raiders fans start making sense.

But since Week 1 of the season, when officials overturned what looked like a certain 19-yard touchdown catch by Raiders receiver Louis Murphy -- a four-point swing in a 24-20 loss to the underwhelming Chargers -- I've listened to all those howling, confused voices from the Black Hole, and I gotta say, for once, I agree.

The key phrase here is “looked like”.

In fact, I've just finished reviewing the following: Murphy's drop, Jacoby Jones' touchdown bomb in Houston's win over the Titans and Carolina wideout Dante Rosario's 11-yard TD catch against the Falcons. Honestly, I'm convinced the touchdowns were drops and the drop was a clear touchdown.

I'm not the only one who's confused. I conducted this forensic investigation during the Colts-Dolphins game Monday night when Jon Gruden, a man we can all agree is something of a football savant, shouted this line after an apparent interception during the second half: "That's a catch -- whoops -- no it isn't."

Now there’s a convincing quote. Might as well stop the article here, case closed.

Actually, I think that may be the subheading of Article 3, "Completed or Intercepted Pass," on Page 50 of the NFL rulebook. That passage also includes the so-called explanation of the noncatch on Murphy's Call.

"A player is in possession when he is in firm grip and control of the ball inbounds. To gain possession of a loose ball that has been caught, intercepted or recovered, a player must have complete control of the ball and have both feet completely on the ground inbounds or any other part of his body, other than his hands, on the ground inbounds. If the player loses the ball while simultaneously touching both feet or any other part of his body to the ground or if there is any doubt that the acts were simultaneous, there is no possession. This rule applies to the field of play and in the end zone."

A bit technical, but it makes sense to me. And this doesn’t explain Murphy’s noncatch, because he was “going to the ground.” Read on.

This Byzantine blather is proceeded by an even more confusing "Note 1," known as the "going-to-the-ground" clause. The G2G states, "A player who goes to the ground in the process of attempting to secure possession of a loose ball [with or without contact by a defender] must maintain control of the ball after he touches the ground, whether in the field of play or the end zone. If he loses control of the ball, and the ball touches the ground before he regains control, there is no possession. If he regains control prior to the ball touching the ground, it is a catch, interception or recovery."

Again, a bit technical, but it makes sense. And this is the relevant clause to Murphy’s noncatch.

Yes, according to this confusing, circular, contradictory 200-freakin' word explanation, I suppose you could argue that the officials made the correct call. (I don’t know where the circularities or contradictions are, but he’s pretty close on the number of words.) It seems simple, at first. In the act of possessing a pass, if a player is going to the ground and the ball touches said turf, it may not move more than slightly -- or it's an incompletion. I get it. Not the actual rule, mind you, but the genius behind the NFL Rubric, I mean, rulebook. (Good one.) You see the NFL has created a set of rules so arcane and open to interpretation that, no matter what the officials call on Sunday, the following week the league office can prove they were 100 percent correct.

Actually, the NFL and its referees frequently admit mistakes and apologize. Here are two notable examples. In fact, I’m not positive about this, but I think the NFL reviews each game and sends letters of admission to teams they believe were on the wrong end of incorrect calls. So, basically they do the exact opposite of what Fleming suggests.

I don't expect the calls to be perfect. Human frailty is part of sports, a part most of us actually enjoy and appreciate. (Really? You enjoy and appreciate bad calls? I don’t. When the Seahawks lost a playoff spot because a ref mistook Vinny Testaverde’s white helmet crossing the goal line as the brown ball, I was pretty pissed off.) This is more about the growing confusion over the same kinds of plays constantly getting different calls because the rules are too weird to understand. For example: Did you know that the NFL actually sees a clear difference between the terms "simultaneous catch" and "joint catch"? (No, I didn’t, and without any further elaboration or context, I can comfortably conclude that it’s absolutely ridiculous.)

The NFL cannot continue to develop into a passing league when something as simple and basic as the definition of catching the football takes two full pages of text, three officials, hyper-slo-mo viewing, a panel of astrophysicists and a room full of lawyers and linguists.

You know why Fleming doesn’t offer a simpler definition of a catch here? My guess is because he doesn’t have one.

In other words, you can't have a passing league in which the definition of a catch is more difficult to understand than Einstein's theory of relativity or, say, the appeal of the Kardashian sisters.

Oh wait, I take that back, my guess is because he was setting up a hilarious joke and didn’t want to ruin the flow.

Everyone other than stat geeks, Dungeons & Dragons aficionados and conspiracy theorists was confused by Murphy's Call. (WTF?) He caught it. Placed his left foot on the turf. Check. Held the ball. Check. Then placed his right foot on the turf. Check. Held the ball some more. Check. Then landed on the ground while still in possession of the ball. Check. Ball touches the ground as he's falling to the turf. Check. (Funny how he left this one out.)

By the way, should we talk about the G2G clause you mentioned early? It sounds like the relevant rule here. No. Okay.

Incomplete pass. What?

By the way, should we talk about the G2G clause you mentioned early? It sounds like the relevant rule here. No. Okay.

If the simplest definition tends to be the correct one (generally, the actual definition tends to be the correct one), it sure looked, felt and seemed like a catch to me. Ditto to Murph. "That's like winning the lottery and them taking it back from you," he said after the game. "The ultimate high, then the ultimate low."

Now there’s a relevant quote. Might as well stop the article here, case closed.

It was only after the play was allowed to be unwound by loopholes of logic (Look out Zeno of Elea!) and super hi-def slo-mo that the touchdown was reversed. And don't even get me started on slo-mo. First of all, the games aren't played in slow motion. The rules weren't written in slow motion. And yet this technology is allowed to splice every part of the game down to its molecular core -- frame by frame, pixel by pixel, atom by atom -- to the infinitesimal point where, shoot, I'm no longer 100 percent sure Murphy was even on the field that day.

Just so you know what a sentence written in slow motion looks like, I’ll write one. This sentence was written in slow motion. There you go.

If NFL Films videotapes a tree falling in the forest and then replays it in ultra-super-mega slo-mo, did it really fall down, or did it just lean, slightly, inevitably, into the Earth's rotation? (Speaking of incompletions, reread that last sentence.) Ya know, every time these rules and this technology are used to change a call that the human eye determined was a no-brainer, I wonder, how many of the 20 all-time greatest catches in NFL history would be overturned using the league's current system? Half? A third? (My honest guess, none.)

Reading the last two paragraphs, I think I can sum up Fleming’s argument against slo-mo replay: it serves it purpose.

The biggest problem I have is that the rules contradict themselves. A player going to the ground needs to maintain possession of the ball. OK, but at the same time, the rules also suggest that once a player has controlled the ball with two feet in bounds, he has caught the ball, and therefore you could argue that it's already been declared a catch before he starts going to the ground. (It's almost as if a special clause in the rules is needed to deal specifically with players “going to the ground” while making a catch.) "When they overturned it, I started asking, 'What's the rule, what's the rule, what's the rule?'" Murph says. "Everybody told me two feet down and once you land it's OK, but then I found out in meetings today the rule is even if you fall with two feet down, you still have to control it, which I thought I did."

So “Murph” seems to understand the rule perfectly, but disagrees with the ref’s judgment of control. This supports Fleming’s case how? Look, out of all the passes attempted each week, the overwhelming majority are either obvious completions or obvious incompletions, and called as such. Out of the remaining attempts, the vast majority become obvious, one way or the other, once reviewed in slo-mo replay. But, you are always going to have a small subset of attempts that are so close that they aren’t ever obvious, so the ref makes the call. That’s just how it goes. I saw Murph's noncatch, and honestly I wouldn't have overturned the call on the field of catch, but the ball does touch the ground, and it just wasn't obvious whether or not he had position. It was so close that neither side had much of a case if it didn't go their way.

Again, the rules say if a player is going to the ground, he must maintain control of the ball. But they also say it's OK if the ball touches the ground as long as you don't lose control of it, and that "slight movement" of the ball is fine once the ball is caught. But what does slight mean? A twist? A full turn? A shift? A bobble? A shake? A gink? (I made that up, but still.) Riddle me this: If the ball's touching the ground during a catch does not constitute possession, you could argue, in theory, that every time someone is tackled and the ball touches the ground, the runner is not in "possession" of the ball and it's a fumble.

The italics are mine. And I think the first sentence of his “riddle” should read, “If the ball touching the ground during a catch constitutes a non-possession…”, as it actually makes sense this way. His point is still completely inane, but it makes sense.

The result of all this technology, nomenclature and atom splitting is that although the officials in Oakland were able to determine the most infinitesimal movement of the ball as it contacted the ground, the guys in Tennessee didn't see anything wrong with the ball's leaving a large divot in the grass after Jones secured it with what looked like nothing more than his left butt cheek. On the other hand, Rosario's catch against the Falcons was allowed because the ref said the tight end, and I quote, "completed the catch, performed a second act, reaching for the goal line, penetrated the goal line, and the result of the play is a touchdown." (This makes perfect sense, and it’s a complete different scenario than the previous one.) That tells me the refs in Oakland and the league office do not consider planting both feet on the turf -- like, say, while throwing, running a route or kicking a field goal -- to be an actual football move. (No, it means they were following the going-to-the-ground clause, which they should have been because Murphy was going to the ground.)

Confused?

Should I be?

That's OK. You should be.

Oh.

The problem is so are the refs, the players, the coaches and the league office.

That's why an obvious drop in Nashville is a game- (maybe, season-) changing touchdown, but what our eyes tells us is the clean catch in Oakland is little more than an incomplete pass.

Another allusion to the the-problem-with-instant-replay-is-it-works argument.

Don't worry, though. I vow to clear up all this the next time the NFL's rules committee meets during the offseason at its usual unknown tropical island location.

One question: Anyone know how to open The Hatch?

Oh, a “Lost” reference... ha ha ha ha ha... I get it.


Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Week 2: Is that Wilson or Wade?

'80s pop duo Wilson Phillips probably could have managed the clock better than Cowboys coach Wade Phillips at the end of Sunday night's Giants/Cowboys game. On the final possession of the game, with Dallas up by one and New York driving, despite holding three timeouts, Phillips never used one in an attempt to preserve some clock for a quick counter-drive, in case New York scored. The result was a game-winning field goal for the Giants on the final play of the game. Taking a page out of the book of irrelevant tactics, Phillips did, however, "put the pressure" on Giants kicker Lawrence Tynes by icing him with a timeout. Why icing the kicker is still fashionable among NFL coaches is beyond me. (My favorite icing-the-kicker moment is when Joe Gibbs tried to "double ice" Rian Lindell leading to a 15-yard penalty, and a 36-yard attempt instead of a 51-yard attempt.)

Let's examine the final drive a little more closely. The Giants have the ball 1st down at the Cowboys 47 with a little over 1:20 remaining and the clock ticking. The Giants have 2 timeouts, the Cowboys 3. The Cowboys should now be stopping the clock every chance they can. There is no way the Giants are running out of time. They are either turning the ball over or scoring. There is almost no downside for the Cowboys to try to preserve the clock. The upside is a chance for a quick counter-strike if the Giants score. This is obviously an enormous contrast with a certain loss if the Giants score. Now, it's quite possible the Giant's are able to get into field goal range and run down the clock, even if the Cowboys do use their timeouts, but why give it to them? It was incredibly stupid for the Cowboys to let the clock run.

I can understand why most NFL coaches aren't able to managed the clock correctly. Maybe they just aren't good at it, maybe they have to pay too much attention to the on-field action to worry about it. What I can't understand is why they don't hire somebody to stand on the sidelines to do it for them. They have assistant coaches, under assistant coaches to prepare for the game, why not a "time management" coach to give their team the best chance to win during the game?

(On a related note, I was happy to see, my team, the Seattle Seahawks using all their timeouts on defense, down by 13, with a little over 5 minutes left. They at least gave themselves a realistic chance to get the ball back, score, get an on-side kick, and score again. Nothing but the first step of this sequence happened, but this was due to on-field execution, not clock management. It's encouring to see good time management from the Hawks head coach. It's not encouring to see them give up two 70+ yard TD runs to Frank Gore, or to see their starting QB go down with a possibly serious injury, but that's another story.)

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Week 1: TMQ Already in Mid-season Form

I largely agree with TMQ's crusade against conservative coaching decisions in the NFL, and his general questioning of accepted football "wisdom". However, I really don't get how a guy who devotes swathes of a column ostensibly about football to discussions of budgets, bailouts and stimuli seems to think that a bunch of anecdotes (Stop Me Before I Blitz Again!) are an acceptable substitute for statistical evidence. He also shows a tendency to overstate his case a bit. Example:

Trailing 31-7, Carolina faced fourth-and-goal on the Philadelphia 4 with 1:45 remaining before intermission. That can't be the field goal unit! You can't be serious! A touchdown here is the only hope of getting back into the game! If you're going to kick you might as well quit and go have blueberry-almond martinis. Carolina kicked, and went on to a 38-10 defeat.


A touchdown is the only hope of getting back in the game? A touchdown with extra point puts you down 17 points (three scores), with a little over a half to go. A field goal puts you down 21 points (also three scores). So the deficit-closable-in-a-half cutoff is somewhere between 17 and 21 points? Not too obvious to me. And how did Philly manage to build a 24-point lead in under a half of play?

I'm not saying that TMQ is necessarily wrong here. This article indicates that going for a touchdown on fourth-and-goal is the better decision if the chance of converting is at least 18%. It also states that a fourth-and-goal from the 2-yard line is coverted about 43% of time. I don't have data on the odds for fourth-and-goal from the 4, but let's suppose it's about a 30% chance of conversion (I think I'm being generous here). That would seem to indicate that going for it is the right decision. However, a big part of the advantage of going for a TD is sticking the opponent with bad field position if you fail. With 1:45 left in the half, that's not such a benefit, especially if the Panthers happened to have two or fewer timeouts left. If I were coaching the Panthers, I would probably also have taken the three points if I had one or no timeouts. Either way, winning this game is a long shot, and it's odd that TMQ seems to think his choice is vindicated by the 38-10 final score.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

James, Burress, Stallworth and Vick (which of these things is not like the other)

With the regular football season kicking-off tonight I wanted to update this blog. Before I talk about football though, I wanted to comment on LeBron James. I heard an interview with him yesterday on "Fresh Air" and while listening to it I decided that LeBron has the potential to become the Yogi Berra of the NBA. He seems like an intelligent and funny individual (at least by professional athlete standards), but he's constantly mixing methaphors and misusing words. For example, he refered to his mother as being, "calm and collective." In a different interview, I once heard him repeatedly use the word "sustain" as a synonym for "repel" as in (paraphrase), "they kept trying to comeback on us, but we were able to sustain them." If LeBron gets a little nuttier as he ages and loses some of his youthful bravado, I'm predicting some great Yogi-esque quotes from him.

Listening to the interview, I was also reminded about how much hype surrounded James as a teenager (including a Sports Illustrated cover dubbing him the "Choosen One"). It's easy to forget that, because now he's just an NBA superstar doing NBA superstar things. He's completely lived up to the hype. It seems like we are constantly hearing about the next "Choosen One" in sports and occassionally they bust (e. g., Michelle Wie and Todd Maranovich), but often they really are the "Choosen One" or at least a close approximation of it. Other than James, Wayne Gretzky, Ken Griffey Jr., A-Rod and Tiger Woods are all examples.

Anyway, on to football...

Bill Simmons has a story up today, about how crazy and unpredictable the NFL is. One of his reasons:

Former Giants receiver Plaxico Burress (who accidentally shot himself in the leg while illegally carrying a handgun in public) was given a prison sentence 30 times longer than that of Browns receiver Donte' Stallworth (who killed a pedestrian while driving drunk and high). Not only weird, but perplexing.

Michael Vick defenders have pointed out a similar disparity between Vick's punishment and Stallworth's, but like Simmons, they always leave out a key point. Stallworth didn't mean to kill anybody. The result of Stallworth's actions were worse, but not the intent. Vick knowingly lead a criminal life for years, during which time he committed or oversaw many cruel and disturbing, violent acts. Then he lied about it. This is so different from Stallworth's case that I don't think the two are comparable. Burress' crime is more comparable, but Burress illegally owned a handgun, which is very much a premeditated act, not a temporary lapse in judgement.

Stallworth messed up when he drove intoxicated (and his insistance during his 911 call that the "man ran in front of his car" is terrible), but, unless Stallworth has a history of this, you can legitimately argue that he just "made a mistake". For the case of Vick and Burress this is much more difficult argument to make. Further, the fact that Stallworth killed somebody and Plaxico only hurt himself is basically just the luck of the draw. It could have very easily been the other way around.

I'm definitely not defending Stallworth by any means and maybe he deserves worse or Vick or Burress deserve better. I am just making the point that you have to take into consideration the intent along with the results when considering their cases, something it doesn't seem anybody is doing.