Greyscale

In the aftermath of Super Bowl XL (forty to the uninitiated), the only thing that lived up to the “eXtra-Large” besides the hype was Jerome Bettis’ weight. With what amounted to two underdog teams, those not fans of Pittsburgh or Seattle were left grasping at angles to follow. Even the commercials, for the most part, lacked flair and interest. The only thing we had that drew attention to the game was the officiating. Oh, officiating. The outcome may not have been different, but there were a lot of questionable calls.

Given the way the game has evolved, its no wonder that officiating has become harder and harder. Human growth outstrips the rules’ capability to erect a tidy framework around the game. These players are genetic freaks (or steroid abusers, take your pick), faster, stronger, heavier. The field still measures the same from sideline to sideline and end zone to end zone. Sure, some rules changes concede this growth, such as moving back kickoffs, changing the goalpost location, changing rules on tackling (what is a horse collar again? Why don’t they ever call it?). Many rules remain set in stone, like Hammurabi’s Code of Laws, immutable, stout in the face of withering criticism.

We could alter these rules, but people love history. To paraphrase Art Spiegelman (and apologies, I know sports fans are not comparable to Holocaust survivors, but the turn of the phrase has always touched me), sports fans bleed history. Historians’ “What If?” game tailors itself well towards theoretical past versus present showdowns. One way to enact these comparisons is to compare statistics, always viewed in the light of the times they played in, but still the same rules governed how these stats were compiled. Change the rules too much, however, and all that history is no more than sand scattered across the desert.

So, if you will not change the rules, will you change those that enforce them? Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? Who watches the watchers? Well, besides fans. And the National Football League. Though the rules are the same across all games, their interpretation is not. How loose or tight do you call the game? For the uninitiated, that is a reference to how strict the referees enforce the rules. Though you hope that each referee will offer the same basic thing every time you watch a game (the McDonalds effect), there’s a broad range of competence (the local small restaurant effect).

A survey on espn.com queried whether National Football League referees should be full-time employees. Though I’d never thought about it, this was something I knew deep down (Every year, I swear that if Ed Hochuli would take me under his wing, I’d move to Arizona and work in his law firm). Refs need to be full-time, though off-season will be a problem. Still, you don’t pay top dollar for a car then skimp on the tires, to strain a comparison. If you want a smooth ride, you have to pay for it.

We also have the advantage of high technology (O High Definition Television please show me your digital signal). When will referees start to resemble gargoyles from Snow Crash, laden down with high tech equipment to allow instant transmission of information? Why can’t a ref, aside from the review team in the booth, be allowed to control the sky cam, and call fouls live? Note that armchair referees upon replay or with their strong camera angles are apt to make all the correct calls. How accurate would they be on the field, live, amidst all the action? They aren’t perfect, but for now, all we’ve got are the zebras.