Fair or Unfair? Debating the NFL Overtime Rules

Indulge, if you will, a brief throwback to standardized testing from high school. Consider the following sequence of events:

1. An NFL game is tied at the end of regulation, necessitating a sudden-death overtime period.

2. Predictably, the team that wins the coin toss to begin overtime elects to receive the ball.

3. That team receives the kickoff, drives down the field, and kicks a field goal. Since they are the first team to score in overtime, per NFL rules, they win. The game is over, and the other team loses despite never touching the football in the extended period.

4. _______________________

What is the next, inevitable step in this series?

If you've watched any sports television in the past week, you know the answer:

4. Every sports news network and/or website devotes a segment debating the problem with the NFL's current overtime system and/or offering solutions to fix it-which always ends with something to the effect of "we'll just have to agree to disagree." They're an easy time filler, and most football enthusiasts feel very strongly one way or the other about it. Plus, the debate has gone on, more or less unchanged, for years. It's no trouble to re-hash the re-re-hashed.

Naturally, there's been a rash of such segments following last weekend's AFC wild card playoff game between the Colts and Chargers. Regulation ended with the two knotted at 17. In overtime, the Chargers got the ball first, drove straight down the field, and scored to win the game on a 22-yard touchdown run by Darren Sproles without the Colts ever touching the ball. The only thing Peyton Manning did in overtime was stand at midfield during the coin toss and call heads. Upon seeing it come up tails, Chargers' nose tackle Jamal Williams said what many were already thinking: "Game over."

The Chargers elected to receive the football.

Williams' proclamation, appearing here on fanhouse.com, is one of the main points that opponents of the current overtime setup identify as a problem: Since a team merely has to score to win the game, the winner of the overtime coin toss (who invariably elects to receive the kickoff) gains a considerable-arguably unfair-advantage. (Although data are sketchy, under the current overtime rules, there is only one clearly documented instance of a team winning the overtime coin toss and deferring to the other team: a 2002 blunder by then-Lions head coach Marty Mornhinweg. Not surprisingly, the opposing Chicago Bears drove down the field and won the game by scoring on their first possession. But since it was the Detroit Lions, it's probably fair to throw that irrational instance out of the data as an outlier.)

On Saturday, as often occurs, the Chargers were able to win the game without having to defend the Colts' biggest offensive weapon, Manning, for a single play. Shouldn't both teams have an opportunity to score? An article by Time.com earlier this year, following the Jets' first-possession overtime victory over the Patriots in week 11, noted that 44% of overtime games since 2006 have ended on a first possession score with the other team's offense never taking the field. Additionally, the team winning the coin toss in overtime wins the game 64% of the time. Statistics suggest there's a lot riding on simply calling the correct side of the coin, and it's difficult to argue that so much should depend on random chance.

Sudden-death proponents counter that a coin toss is simply a necessary tool. Having your fate, to a degree, decided by a flip of the coin is the price your team pays for not sealing an outright win in regulation. Somebody has to get the football, and somebody has to defend. Further, sudden death typically cuts down the duration of overtime games. Playing a full extra quarter every overtime would expose players to greater risk of injury as they wear down physically over the course of the game--a risk less prevalent to sports like baseball. Besides, the supporters say, any setup besides the current one would have its own, equally problematic quirks. But it's not particularly compelling to concede that the current system is flawed and simply claim that no better option is available. And it's tough to tell a team who loses in overtime, "well, you should have stopped them from scoring" if the whole game was an offensive shootout and everyone knows the other team couldn't have stopped their offense, either. If it's one of those games where the last team to score truly wins, then, well...

From the experts to the armchair quarterbacks, there is no shortage of suggestions regarding how the overtime rules should be changed. Some suggest mimicking the college overtime setup, which alternates each team driving from its opponent's 25-yard line until one team scores more than the other in a given frame. But that system has its own decriers, and rightfully so. In the spirit of "giving each team a chance," the college rules have set up a very artificial contest that excludes long-field drives and creates strategic dilemmas that don't exist outside of overtime, like a team choosing to go on defense first so that they know by their turn exactly what they must score to tie or to win.

Others get more creative. Some suggest that the overtime kickoff should resemble the old XFL pre-game "coin toss": one player from each team racing toward a football on a tee 15 yards away. The one who gains possession first wins the toss. At least it wouldn't be random chance. Another option would be to have a shootout, soccer-style. Have both kickers tee off from increasingly longer distances until one makes and one misses. If you're looking for true off-the-wall possibilities, consult patrons at a local watering hole after a day spent watching games and drinking heavily. You'll get some fascinating, creative answers, including phrases that would translate into rulebook-ese as "...for each subsequent overtime period, an additional wolverine will be released onto the field."

But if the NFL executives are open to the notion of tweaking the current system, there are reasonable, even wolverine-free ways to create a more level playing field in overtime without turning the game into a mockery. In the spirit of fairness, here are a few legitimate possibilities:

First to Four

One of the biggest complaints about the current overtime rules--one that even its most staunch defenders have a hard time justifying--is that a team can win by simply driving into field goal range and drilling one through the uprights. During the game, a defense holding the other team to a field goal rather than a touchdown is a mild victory, if not "tie" in some respects for that possession. Giving up three points seems to be a harsh way to lose the game. The solution: Require either team to score four points to win. If you can get a touchdown on the first drive, you can end it. However, if you have to settle for a field goal, you have to stop the other team's offense to get another shot at the win. The team that goes on offense first still has an advantage since the other team doesn't necessarily get a chance to match them score for score, but at least both teams have more of an opportunity.

Ultimate Sudden Death

This will never happen, but it would be an exciting twist on the current setup. The overtime could last exactly one drive-no more. The team that wins the toss may choose defense or offense for that one series. If the team that receives scores, they win. If they don't score, they lose. That's it. A field goal is all they need to win. But if they turn the ball over, either on downs or otherwise, the game's over. It would be a quick, thrilling end, and essentially duplicate the edge-of-your-seat excitement of a game-winning drive at the end of regulation. Ironically, many would argue that this goes too far and gives the defense an incredible advantage, and they'd probably be correct. If 44% of overtimes end with first-possession offensive score, then theoretically the defense would stop that drive (and in this setup, theoretically, win) 56% of the time. However, some of those 56% non-scoring first possessions in overtime were punts on fourth down, which would never happen under this setup. Everyone would have to go for it, and some would make it. But even if this system were implemented, and a team knew that the odds said going on defense was the better bet, albeit by just a few percentage points, would they really have the audacity not to take the football in their own hands when they had the chance?

Hybrid Gambit

The ideal situation might be to mix the first two. Suppose the "first to four points" rule was in effect. Now suppose that the winner of the overtime coin flip had this choice: Take the football, or take three free points. Now that's a compelling decision. The team that takes the ball first can only win on the first possession if they finish a touchdown drive. However, the cost of getting the first crack at scoring is that if they don't, the other team can drive down and simply kick a field goal to win it. The best part: If the first team has to settle for a field goal, then the game effectively becomes sudden death only once both teams have a chance to touch the football. Simple. Elegant. Fair.

And wolverine-free.

Citations

Gregory, Sean. Solving the NFL's Overtime Fumble. Time.com

Wilson, Ryan. Chargers Win Overtime Coin Toss, Jamal WIlliams Promptly Announces 'Game Over'. NFL.fanhouse.com