DOWNSIZING THE NFL

Once upon a time there was a professional football league where guys wore pads made of glorified Styrofoam, helmets made of leather and sans face protection, and there were no mouthguards to be seen. Horse collar and clothesline tackles were legal, and the quarterback was equally vulnerable to a hit as the rest of the team. There were no fines for gouging eyes or groin-punching; only a fifteen yard penalty, if that.

Dick Butkus, baddest football player of his generation,
has thighs the size of Patrick Willis' forearms.

As time went on, technology advanced and the league adopted hard plastic pads and helmets. Facemasks were introduced, as were rib and neck protection. The dangerous tackling practices were outlawed and players began being penalized if a drop of sweat fell on the quarterback. Fines were levied for harder-than-the-average-person-finds-comfortable-to-watch hits, and suspensions were levied if a player performed the outrageous act of trying to stop a receiver from catching a ball.

And, despite all the protection technology and rules have provided, serious injuries in this professional football league are much more prevalent than ever before. And, the current head honcho of the league is shaking in his boots in fear that a player may actually die on the field before too long.

What happened? Weren’t these technologies supposed to help protect the players that used them? Weren’t these stringent rules put into place to limit devastating injuries supposed to actually reduce devastating injuries? What happened?

Simple. The athletes have advanced at a greater pace than science and rules have.

Today’s professional football player is bigger, stronger, and faster than they ever were before. Today’s three-hundred-eighty pound lineman can run the forty yard dash as fast as yesteryear’s one-hundred-ninety pound receiver. Today’s hulking linebacker can bench press four-fifty where yesteryear’s linebacker could barely bench a case of beers and a carton of Lucky Strikes.

The National Football League (or, NFL for those of us not employed by ESPN) has a serious problem. There is nothing they can do to stop devastating injuries.

Commissioner Roger Goodell can hand out fifty-thousand dollar fines and one-game suspensions until James Harrison and Brandon Merriweather file Chapter thirteen. Another young assassin with deep pockets and a mean streak will take the cheap-shot mantle and make their mark. Because, the hardest hitters get the most credibility in the locker room, and that means as much to guys like this (if not more) than the money they make.

So, what’s the answer then?

I’m glad you asked. Because, I’ve got the answer. It’s drastic and outrageous, and it’s so simple, it would work. There’s not even a maybe in there, because I am THAT sure of myself. My plan WOULD work.

Downsize the NFL.

The NFL can’t make the athlete slower, or weaker, or sweeter. (Well, they could make them sweeter, but does anyone want to see Johnny Weir playing strong safety for the Raiders?)

But, smaller, that can be done. And, it’s not all that difficult. Just add weight limits, like they do in Pop Warner and Pee-Wee ball. If you can’t make weight, you can’t play. Period. End of story. Go fight MMA or play in Canada. You can go decapitate receivers there. They could use an infuse of toughness.

Here’s how my Downsized NFL rules would go. Be forewarned, the next several paragraphs are purely football geek territory. If you are enjoying this piece up to now, but don’t want to read the logistics of my plan, skip to the next eleven paragraphs.

First, each player would weigh in prior to the game. Those players who exceed the maximum league weight allowance of two-eighty, sit without pay. It is the team’s responsibility to ensure all players are under weight. If a player exceeds weight and has to sit, their team is not allowed to replace him. They lose the roster spot for the game.

As each player weighs in, a sticker is placed on the back of each man’s helmet, color coded for the position they qualify for. This way, the officials on the field could easily determine if they are lined up correctly prior to each play. If a player is out of position, it is a fifteen-yard misconduct penalty, and the play is whistled dead.

Simple, right? Well, the weight structure is just as simple.

On defense, the linemen cannot weigh more than two-eighty, and all linemen must line up on the line of scrimmage in a stance. No more hybrid defensive ends standing upright atop of tight ends. Those guys must be in three-point stances and lined up no more than three yards off the ball.

The linebackers weight cannot exceed two-hundred-thirty pounds. They are not allowed to line up more than seven yards off the line of scrimmage. They can get as close to the ball as they want, but if they’re past seven yards away, that’s a penalty.

The defensive backs must tip the scales less than two-hundred. They can play anywhere they want on the field.

On offense, the linemen follow the same weight regulations as the defensive linemen. They cannot do anything but block. No more Refrigerator Perry’s lining up in the backfield or as a tight end. These guys block, and that’s it.

The tight ends cannot weigh more than two-thirty, and cannot line up outside the hash-marks. They can line up in the backfield or just off the line. No more splitting them wide against a cornerback.

The quarterback and running backs weigh in at two-twenty or less, and follow the same rules as the tight ends as to where they line up.

The wide receivers, like the defensive backs, weigh in two-bills or less, and, like their defensive counter-parts, can line up anywhere on the field.

For special teams, all rules get thrown out the window, except the league mandated max-weight of two-hundred-ninety pounds. Hey, there’s got to be some major collisions in the game.

Will this take any excitement away from the game? Of course not. As a matter of fact, with lighter players comes faster play. With faster play comes MORE excitement. So, in essence, this rule would enhance the game of football, not detract from it.

Players would need to be more agile and less bulky, decreasing the likelihood of muscle pulls and tears, as well as joint and tendon ailments. With less weight, the occurrence of injury caused by bodies falling on other bodies would also decrease. There is a significant difference in pressure when a two-hundred-seventy-five pound lineman falls on a leg then if it were a three-hundred-seventy pound behemoth.

Big, full-speed hits would be much less devastating when the guys colliding weigh a combined four-hundred-forty, as opposed to the hundred pounds more that they weigh today.

Besides, wouldn’t it be nice if the linemen on each team actually looked like athletes, with muscular arms instead of a slab of fat stretching the skin-tight jersey and hanging over the belt? Let’s put the out-of-shape fellas on the sidelines or in the CFL, eh? And, wouldn’t you like to see a receiver that just ran like The Flash instead of being built like him? Wouldn’t these changes make the NFL more relatable, and make the athletes seem more real?

There’s no downside to this rule. There’s only tremendous upside. The NFL will become a safer game, without the millions of dollars in fines that go to Lord-knows-where, and it won’t suffer in the excitement department one bit. Oh, and the players will live longer, healthier lives, if that’s something that interests you.

It’s what we call a win-win. And this is why it will never get adopted in the National Football League. (Sorry, went a little Mark Schlereth* on you there.)

*Mark Schlereth is a very vocal ESPN NFL analyst who loves to call it The National Football League. He says that phrase three times in his first two sentences in this rant. It’s a pretty relevant rant, by the way.