Category Archives: Football

January 4, 2013 · 2:24 pm

Rule Violations and Playing As If

As one might imagine there is a decent-sized literature in the philosophy of sport on cheating, rule-violations, and tactical fouls. (Two good papers reviewing the positions: Fraleigh, Water. “Intentional Rule Violations—One More Time” Journal of the Philosophy of Sport, 2003, XXX, 166-176; and Simon, Robert. “The Ethics of Strategic Fouling: A Reply to Fraliegh” Journal of the Philosophy of Sport, 2005, XXXII, 87-95)

Roughly the distinctions between these three categories are the following:

  • Rule-violations: The general category of actions where one violates in some manner the accepted rules of the game. These can be accidental (one is pushed out of bounds by an opposing team member) or intentional (one holds a wide receiver to prevent a catch resulting in touchdown).
  • Cheating: an intentional rule violation done for an advantage in a contest that typically involves deception and attempts at avoidance of the penalty for the violation. For example, the use of a prohibited performance-enhancing substance. This is done in secrecy with the goal of keeping the use secret.
  • Tactical foul (also strategic, good, or professional fouls): an intentional rule violation done for an advantage in a contest (or to prevent/mitigate a disadvantage) that is typically done in the open with the goal of the foul being called or acceptance of penalty as price worth paying to prevent a worse outcome. The paradigmatic example is the time-stopping foul near the end of a basketball game. This is done quickly and obviously in order to stop the clock with the hope of closing the point gap.

I am interested in identifying a class of actions that while they might in some ways be rule violations do not seem to fit into the categories of the literature on intentional rule violations.

Here is an example of the kind of action about which I am thinking. During the Texans-Lions NFL matchup on Thanksgiving 2012, Texans’ running back, Justin Forsett, is down by contact. However, there is no whistle by the officials and Forsett proceeds to run 81 yards for a Texans’ touchdown. To a layman’s eye, it looked obvious and clear that Forsett was down and that the play should have been over. (Due to a quirk of the NFL instant replay rules, this play was not reviewable.)

In this case, it seems that Forsett knew he was down and thus knew the play, by rule, was over and that he did not actually score a touchdown. While this is not a rule violation of the sort involved in the commission of a foul or penalty, it is (or at least appears to be) a case where the rules that govern what count as a runner being down or scoring a touchdown are ignored. Forsett, and the Texans as a team, appeared willing to accept a touchdown that by the rules really wasn’t a touchdown.

Similar cases that fit into this category are where a player clearly steps out of bounds but continues to play as if he did not or where a baseball player “traps” the ball and proceeds as if it is a catch. A soccer player who knows she touched the ball with her hand but plays as if she did not. These are all cases where the player appears to have knowledge that he or she has done some action X (that would result in some negative result for him or his side) but continues as if he or she had not (resulting in some advantage for his or her side).

I call these “Playing As If” (I’m not crazy about this name) since one is playing as if they have done one thing while they have in fact done something else. I think these cases are very common in most sports at all levels. Evaluating them, however, is not an easy or clear matter.

It seems, at first glance, that the honorable thing to do in all these cases is to acknowledge the action done. So Forsett should not have run for a touchdown. The baseball play that traps the ball ought not to field the ball as an out. The player who runs out of bounds ought not to continue the play. If this is true, then athletes playing as if, like Forsett, ought to be criticized.

There are two related reasons, however, that moderates against such a judgment.

First, all these cases involve officiating error(s). The officials are charged with ending the play after a player runs out of bounds or is down in football. They have failed to make the correct call and the players continue to play based on the officiating crew’s application of the rules to the game. Many athletes that I have spoken with about such cases put the onus on the officials to make the call. Their responsibility as players is to play, not to officiate. Many have gone further, claiming it would be wrong on the player’s part to engage in self-officiating. In Forsett’s case, his job is to run with the football until the officials blow the whistle signifying the end of the play. It is not his responsibility to determine if he was down or not and he would be wrongly encroaching on the officials’ job were he to do so.

Second, there is an epistemic issue here. In describing these cases, I have been presuming that the player knows that he is down, out of bounds, trapping the ball, etc. The player, though, is not likely to be in a position to know this (or to know with enough certainty). This is part of the reason we have officials. Officials are there to offer an unbiased application of the rules, but also to be responsible for paying attention to these kinds of situations. The player is more likely to be focused on other game situations.

Returning to Forsett’s case, it is not fair to assume that Forsett knows he is down. In conversations with several football players, they shared that in similar situations they couldn’t tell whether they made contact with the ground or another player. If the latter is the case, they are not down and so ought to keep going with the play. Maybe the athlete suspects he is out or down, but to make the further step of making such a call against himself and his team, he needs, I think, more certainty than is typically available to him.

While I think there are cases where a player knows full-well that he is down or out of bounds, etc., in most cases of this sort the athlete deserves the benefit of the doubt. This combined with the well-defined role of the officials as the keeper and adjudicator of the rules mitigates against a straightforward negative moral judgment against athletes in these cases.

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Filed under Football, Officiating, rule-violations

September 29, 2012 · 2:39 am

You Make the Call! Golden Tate, Miroslav Klose, and Officiating Errors

At the start of the semester, I posed the following the question to my Sports Ethics students:

The quarterback fires the ball at you, but the throw is low. You get your hands on it and come up with the ball, but you clearly saw that it touched the ground first. The referee signals a catch and a first down.  What should you do?

With only one exception, the students selected this answer: “You do not say anything and get set for the next play.” The one outlier selected the answer:  “You tell the referee that it was not a catch.”

This is not a surprising response. On Thursday morning on the Mike & Mike ESPN Radio show, they discussed the question of whether Golden Tate, a Seattle Seahawk receiver, should have admitted that his controversial game winning touchdown on Monday Night Football was not really a catch. Mike Golic and Mark Schlereth, both former NFL players, responded without any hesitation or qualification that he should not.

In marked contrast, in the Italian Serie A match on Wednesday between Lazio and Napoli, Miroslav Klose appeared to score a goal for Lazio early in the game. The Napoli side was incensed, claiming that ball came off of Klose’s hand (ironically, Diego “Hand of God” Maradona used to play for Napoli ). Klose admitted to the referee that this was indeed the case and the goal was subsequently disallowed. Karma did not, however, reward Lazio or Klose: they ended up losing 3-0.

Klose, Gate, and Supererogation

Supererogation refers to the category of moral actions that are praiseworthy but not required. Such actions are typically ones we praise individuals for doing but would not criticize if individuals do not. For example, one would likely praise Bob for taking his neighbor Suzie to work when her car broke down. But given that Suzie’s office is thirty minutes in the other direction from Bob’s work, one probably wouldn’t think (separate some special connection or commitment) that Bob is under any sort of obligation to do this for Suzie.

Given the anecdotal responses and reactions to the Klose and Tate events, most people appear to regard an athlete’s reporting an error to the officials as supererogatory. While Klose is widely praised for his act of sportsmanship, the outrage at Tate’s “touchdown” is directed almost entirely at the replacement referees and their incompetence. No one seems to expect Tate to own up to his non-catch. And the media attention given to Klose’s handball correction suggests as well that Klose was going beyond the normal expectation.

I think this conventional view raises some moral concerns. Primarily, my concern is the sense that winning because of a play you know to be prohibited or called incorrectly is not an honorable victory. It is not the way I would want to win were I an athlete and it is not the way I want my team to win as a fan. The joy and value of winning comes from achieving and succeeding according to a prescribed set of rules against opposition that is worthy of the contest. Scoring a goal or preventing a goal with a handball is not succeeding according to the set of rules of soccer, and diminishes the personal value of the win. How much satisfaction can the Seahawk players and fans take in their win over Green Bay? (This story gives an account of how some of the Seahawks felt about the victory after seeing the replays )

What, then, are some of the reasons offered for the supererogatory viewpoint? Two views seem most common.

1)   The “a win is a win” view

2)   The “let the ref make the call” view

The “a win is a win” view regards winning is the highest and most important goal of sport.  The win is all that matters and, short of outright cheating, it doesn’t matter how one wins. If a bad call puts you in a position to win, that is to be regarded as a gift that ought not be challenged.

I don’t regard this view as morally justifiable. Winning is certainly important, but it is not the only valuable thing about sport. Further, how one wins is morally important and cannot be discounted. This view would justify all unsportsmanlike behavior that doesn’t qualify as cheating.

The “let the ref make the call” view fairs much better. It distinguishes the roles of the athlete and the officials. The officials have the job of officiating and making the calls. The athlete ought not, on this view, interfere with the officiating: either by trying to get the official to rule in his or her favor or by owning up to an incorrect call.

There are sports, such as golf, where the athlete has partial responsibility for enforcing the rules, and the conventions regarding this issue are different. In most professional and elite sports, however, the enforcement of the rules is explicitly removed from the athletes’ purview and vested in officials. For an athlete to be put into the position of making the call muddies the waters of adjudicating the rules fairly and equally. The officials and the athletes have their roles to play, and we ought to endeavor for the sake of fairness to keep these roles clear and distinct.

This view goes a long way in justifying the view that an athlete is under no obligation to report to the official incorrect calls. However, it might prove too much. This view suggests that the obligation runs the other way: the athlete ought not to correct the referee. In other words, this view would seem to lead us to say that Klose was in fact wrong to tell the referee about the handball. That goes too far.

So where do we draw the line? My tentative answer is that generally the “let the ref make the call” view is correct, but that in situations where the athlete is clearly aware of an egregious error with a game-changing impact, the integrity of the game and his or her own integrity demand that the athlete speak up. The athlete is not making the call; he is merely providing some data to the official. The official, in accepting this data or not, is still the one to make the call.

Klose clearly knows that his hand makes contact with the ball on a scoring play, so he seems to have an obligation to inform the official of what he knows. Tate, on the other hand, likely is not in a position to know if he has caught the ball. The rules of possession in the NFL are complex, so Tate cannot be sure that the officials have made the wrong call. Thus, Tate has no business telling the official anything regarding the catch. The case of Tate’s offensive pass interference is similar. In the course of a play such as a Hail Mary, it is hard for the athlete to know if his contact with the opponent is sufficient to trigger an interference call.

I am not entirely convinced by this, however. It has an ad hoc feel that rationalizes the status quo. I think we could do with more athletes acting like Klose. And I think we could do with a better account of why.

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Filed under Football, NFL, Officiating, soccer

August 31, 2012 · 7:48 pm

The 700 Club: NFL Roster Cuts

By this evening (Friday, August 31, 2012), NFL teams have to cut their rosters down to 53 players. For NFL fans, this is an exciting time: debates over who will make the team and who will not; the impatience for the start of the season; and the eagerness to see what the make-up of your team is going to be.

The often unseen, darker side of this deadline is the more than 700 athletes who will be out of job by the end of the day. Of course, for many of these guys, this is only a temporary situation. Other teams will pick up them, either for their rosters or for the practice squad. But for many, both veterans and rookies, the end of this preseason is the end of their professional football career.

As fans, we often get caught up in the specifics of the games and in the performances of the players. We get upset at poor play; call up radio stations to call for a player to be benched or cut. Or, maybe, we call for a coach to be fired. And maybe we are right to do so.

But we can easily forget that these are individual human beings. They have mortgages and families to support. They have dreams and goals in their professional and personal lives. They are working and training harder than most of us can even imagine—and have been doing so their whole adult lives and for a good chunk of their childhood.

For the veteran, the dreams of one last chance, of one more year in a long career, come to an unceremonious end. For the rookie, it is the realization that the dream of stepping onto an NFL field during a real game is just that: a dream. (This article by a former NFL player provides an account from the player’s perspective)

This is a sad moment; and ought to be acknowledged as such. The end of a career is the end of something of great value. The loss of that value should be mourned.

Nevertheless, it is good that it is like this. The rookie and the veteran get a chance to compete for positions. They got further along than most aspiring athletes. And many do make it, at least for a little while. More than that, the extraordinarily competitive environment of the NFL preseason allows for the best, most able players to emerge. Rookies don’t make it just because they were high draft picks, and veterans don’t make the team because of what they have done in the past. The primary test is of one’s ability and capacity to perform in the here and now. This is to the advantage to all: fans, teams, and players alike. It is even to the advantage of the players that get cut: for them it offers a system that allows them to compete and have a chance to prove themselves.

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Filed under Football, NFL

August 20, 2012 · 9:36 pm

Violence and Football

In a recent column, George Will attacks football (of the American egg-shaped variety). He opens the column with the quip: “Are you ready for some football? First, however, are you ready for some autopsies?” This is a direct reference to the recent suicides of former NFL players which many believe—with increasing evidence—are linked to the damage done to the athletes’ brains from playing football. (An article discussing research of chronic brain trauma in football)

Will regards the dangers of football as beyond fixing. He does not make an outright call for banning the game, but his disdain for the gridiron is clear. Calling it a “mistake,” Will regards the game as too violent, the players as too big, and the risk of long-term damage and death as too high. The fans that delight in the sport do not come off much better in Will’s view. (Ironically, since Will is a huge baseball fan, a recent study of player mortality finds that baseball players die at a more frequent rate).

Football is indeed a dangerous sport. Today we are most focused on concussions, but the violence of the sport does damage beyond the brain. Other organs in the athlete’s body are banged around by the same forces that damage the brain. The consequences for the internal organs are less known, but it is not an extraordinary leap that long-term damage to livers and kidneys is sustained by the repeated, brutal physical hits in football. The long-term and often irreparable damage to the knees and other joints of football players is well-known. Sadly, every few years we hear of someone being paralyzed while playing football. Most experts believe it is only a matter of time before there is a death on the field.

Moreover, as Will correctly states, the dangerousness of football cannot be removed without destroying the game. A non-violent, risk-free, or safe football is a contradiction. But Will is wrong to regard the game of football as a mistake.

We cannot take the violence or danger out of football, nor should we. We ought to make sure that the risks are understood by those playing or considering playing. We ought to take reasonable precautions to reduce the worst of the dangers. But the game itself is dangerous and that is part of its virtue.

As philosopher of sport John Russell puts it:

“Dangerous sport in its best exemplars, particularly in which substantial bodily danger is an immediate and ever-present risk, represents an opportunity for confronting and pressing beyond certain apparent limits of personal, and indeed human, physical and psychological capacities in ways not afforded by other normally available human activity” (3).

Dangerous sports, such as football, enable participants to learn about themselves in ways not available in normal mundane life. How hard can I push myself? Can I take repeated physical abuse and still get up and try just as hard, even harder? How much am I willing to give to reach a goal? Can I stand in the pocket, get the ball off, knowing that I will be hit hard by someone with 100 pounds on me? Can my teammates trust me in the trenches? Can I trust myself? Dangerous sports give one a unique opportunity to learn the answers to these questions.

Dangerous sports require the athletes to put their whole being to the test. It is not just a physical test, but a mental and emotional test. Dangerous sport, because one is risking life and limb (in some more than others) makes these tests more profound. The potential danger clarifies and brings to the surface responses to circumstances that otherwise may not have been revealed. As Russell tells us, participating in dangerous sports “can incorporate a challenge to capacities for judgment and choice that involves all of ourselves—our body, will, emotions, and ingenuity—under conditions of physical duress and danger at the limits of our being” (14).

Moreover, engaging in dangerous sport, unlike say climbing Mount Everest, is a public test of one’s being. Other athletes and spectators are witnesses to one’s failure or success. The affirmation of one’s capacities in public is an added danger. It takes a special kind of courage and confidence to put one’s whole self on display, especially when failure is a possibility.

Granted, Russell is speaking of football and other dangerous sports at their best. People have many motives for participating in dangerous sports like football that may have nothing to do with exercising and expanding capacities integral to human flourishing. Nevertheless, Russell points to the significant and deep value that engaging in dangerous sports can have.

Though Russell does not delve into the fan side of dangerous sport, there are important values for the fans of dangerous sports. It is not mere bloodlust.  It is psychologically important for us to witness the pursuit and achievement of values by others. It signals to us that the world is such that values are possible and achievable. This gives us inspiration and fuel to pursue our goals and values. Witnessing athletes in dangerous sports put their lives on the line for their values heightens for the fan the importance of values in one’s life and the fact that one must work to achieve them. Moreover, it reminds us that the pursuit of values can fail or involve great pain and suffering; but that, if we are to live well, we must continue the pursuit. Like the players on the field, we must, if we want to win, get back up for the next play, the next game, or the next season.

One of the other interesting points that Will argues in his column is that biggest challenge facing the future of football is that parents will prevent their children from playing football. That very well may be true. As a father, I would be reluctant for my son to play football. While I will not forbid him from playing, I will encourage, instead, other sports. I am a huge NFL fan and see the value in dangerous sports like football, and yet I am going to steer my child away from playing football. I am not alone in this. And that probably does mean trouble for the future of the NFL.

Reference:
J.S. Russell (2005): “The Value of Dangerous Sport,” Journal of the Philosophy of Sport, 32:1, 1-19

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Filed under Football, violence