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The sound and the fury NFL should put a lid on crowd interferencePosted: Thursday October 15, 1998 04:29 PM
This will strike you as hopelessly square. I watched Jacksonville coach Tom Coughlin work his cheerleading routine for the home fans Monday night and it gave me the creeps. For those of you who didn't see it, it was the same old stuff the defensive players do, raising their arms to the crowd to make sure the volume goes way up, so the enemy offense can't hear the signals. I'm not wild about the sight of the players asking for help from some character with a six-pack under his seat, although I can understand guys on the field getting fired up. But a coach? Let's put it this way, it simply ain't dignified. See, I told you, this was going to be Square City, straight out of Knute Rockne and Legends of the Game, but wait, there's more. The idea of a coach as a real Monday-night man of the people might strike some of you as quaint. Just look how much he cares, etc. But as wild as he got on the sidelines, Vince Lombardi never indulged in this kind of rabble-rousing. Nor did Bill Walsh. Nor Tom Landry. Could you see Landry giving the up-up-and-up signal to the crowd? It would have been as repellent to him as the idea of waving a pom-pom. No, these men tried to beat people with skill and ability; they left the cheerleading to the girls in sequins. Not everyone felt that way. I mean, crowd noise putting a real hammer on the other team's offense is an edge so seductive that it's tough to ignore. I remember covering a game in Washington when Joe Gibbs was coaching, and listening to his Saturday radio show. Part of it was devoted to instructions for fans who might be a little slow in the IQ department. "And when you see big number 72 (DE Dexter Manley ) wave his arms in the air," Joe said, "make sure you make all the noise you can. Remember, don't do it when our team has the ball. That wouldn't help us." Right, coach, I think I've got it now. Didn't like it then. Don't like it now. I remember talking to Joe about it next time I saw him. He looked at me like I was nuts. "Happens to us when we go on the road," he said. "Why shouldn't we do it to the other guys?" Same kind of thinking that I heard from a sergeant in basic training when I asked him why he was going out of his way to be so nasty to the recruits. "I had to take it in basic," he said, "and I vowed that someday I'd be twice as tough."
Baseball is noisy but no one in the stands is called upon to influence the outcome of the game. Personally, I don't think it should be part of football. In the late '80s the league agreed and returned to an obscure set of rules that was in the books but never enforced. If the visiting team quarterback can't hear, he informs the referee, who gets the defensive players to assist him in quieting the crowd. Then he makes an announcement, telling the fans to pipe down. If that doesn't work, he announces that crowd noise could cost the home team a timeout. Then another one. Then a penalty. And on and on, with the severity of punishment gradually increasing to the point of forfeiture of a first-born child. O.K., O.K., he can drop another flag. Naturally, what this does is incite the crowd to undreamed-of levels of fury and madness. We paid our thirty bucks, no one's telling us when we can yell and when we can't! And sure enough it happened, in a 1989 exhibition game in the Superdome. Cincinnati quarterback Boomer Esiason stopped play because he couldn't make his signals heard, and he got the ref's ear and swung the argument and timeouts were forfeited, and, if I remember correctly, there was even a penalty or two. The game was held up for a while, amid riotous conditions, and next day every paper with an editorial page took a shot at the dictatorial NFL interfering with fans' right to cheer, and the league -- which, as we all know, is very much into image -- sent the crowd-noise regulations back into mothballs and instructed its referees to politely inform the QB: "Shut up and play. You can hear fine." And now quarterbacks never even hint at the fact that they're having trouble hearing, knowing how this would light up the crowd. Instead, there is an elaborate set of hand and foot signals, which might or might not work. And here's where I'll lose all of you, because I've found very few people who agree with me. Bring back those rules. Take away timeouts. Drop the flag. Make the combat more equal. First game in which you do it -- chaos. Near-riot. Fans at breakout level. Hold firm, even if it severely wounds the home team. By the end of the game, maybe the fans will get the picture and will be a bit calmer. No? Then hit 'em again until they behave. Do it the following week, and the week after. Newspapers will rip you for a while, then go on to other things. But eventually things will settle down, and overall, the quality of professional football will be improved. There, I've gotten it off my chest. Idealistic, unrealistic, perhaps even a bit loony. We know this will never happen. But I firmly believe that it should. Coaches and players work too hard preparing themselves each week to have the outcome influenced by some yahoos in the stands, occasionally encouraged by yahoo coaches. I've even had quarterbacks disagree with me. Archie Manning guessed that the fans in New Orleans were so mad at the team, when he was a Saint, that they'd use the rules to sabotage their own club. "Drowning out the other team's signals is an NFL tradition," Bernie Kosar once told me, laughing. "I'd love to see the things you want, but you could never pull it off." There's what's right and there's what's real, and it's too bad the two are so far apart. Got a question or comment for Dr. Z? Click here.
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