Don’t we suspect that in the very deep, dark recesses of his heart, in the trenches of his gut, the happiest fella was Giants rookie kicker Matt Bryant? Having already shanked a field goal a little earlier (with Fox analyst Cris Collinsworth pronouncing it a choke), Bryant was spared a second inevitable miss and what could have been a career-ending very wide left.
The NFL has, of course, had more than its fair share of thrilling and controversial playoff finishes, from the “Immaculate Reception” to the “Music City Miracle” to last season’s “Tuck Rule” contretemps. But there has never been quite such a multilayered fiasco as the play that ended the San Francisco-New York game. I’m stunned Fox hasn’t already turned it into a mini-series, a football “Boomtown” showing the bizarre finish from multiple viewpoints: the kid kicker; the aged snapper coming out of retirement for his big flop; the holder, blasted for failing to ground the ball when he actually made the play of a lifetime by firing a perfect pass down field; the guard living out the ultimate lineman’s dream, poised for a game-winning TD catch; the panic-stricken 49ers defensive end, spared eternal ignominy by the ref’s inaction; the Giants lineman who wears the goat’s horn for haplessly wandering downfield; the clueless officiating crew, and, of course, Fox’s very own befuddled broadcasters.
This is not the first time the NFL has fessed up to the error of its ways, just one of the more grievous examples exacerbated because it punished a team from the biggest and most mediacentric city in America. But the NFL is hardly alone. Over the past year, some of the biggest sporting events were marred or, at the very least, colored, by controversial and, in some cases, egregious officials’ decisions. These would include: last week’s BCS Championship; the Lakers-Kings NBA Western Conference Finals; back-to-back World Cup upsets by host country Korea over European powers Italy and Spain, and, most notably, the Olympic pairs figure-skating gold medal.
Not a week goes go by without some NHL or NBA coach screaming about what they perceive as an officiating outrage. Like the Montreal Canadiens coach going apoplectic this week when two questionable calls on goals both went against his team, giving the New Jersey Devils a home-ice victory. Or Paul Pierce wondering how, on a drive to the hoop, his front teeth could be broken without a foul occurring. Or Pat Riley musing aloud–at an eventual cost of $50,000–that NBA officials were punishing his Miami Heat players because of their antipathy toward him. None of this is exactly mining new ground. But this season has witnessed one unprecedented wrinkle: the revelation in a lawsuit by a longtime girlfriend of Michael Jordan that she was introduced to the superstar by a referee, who was apparently showing off his access.
Hey, I know the temptation. And I admit I’ve wowed kids (though never a woman) with tales of how, on several occasions, I have been within shouting distance of MJ. But if refs serve as a dating service for players, then what am I to think when I see Jordan, as I did in the final minutes of the Wizards-Celtics game this week, huddled–whispering and laughing–on the court with a referee? Are they talking about babes? A quid pro quo? Or, as I suspect, just enjoying Jordan’s resurgence in what he claims is his final NBA fling. I don’t for a second think it had anything to do with the ticky-tack foul Jordan drew on his game-winning basket moments later.
But it is obvious that referees, umpires, linesman all have incredible power to affect the outcome of a game or a series. Baseball fans of a certain age may recall how a horrendous call at first base in the ninth inning of the 1985 World Series game 6 spared Kansas City extinction and keyed their championship comeback. Soccer referees are perhaps singular in their ability to determine outcomes, not just because so much power is vested in one man, but because one goal can be so much more critical than one run, basket or touchdown. And there is an alleged Russian mobster awaiting extradition to the United States because we now know how much power has been vested in any one figure-skating judge.
Now, I am not by nature a conspiracy theorist. I think all, or at least almost all, of these misjudgments on the playing field were inevitable byproducts of human frailty in the face of near-impossible tasks. Still, game officials are potentially sports’ weakest link, imbued with great powers while reimbursed on a relatively meager scale. Which leads me, of course, to the matter of Mr. Pete Rose. Rose trifled with the one rule that must remain inviolable. Now it looks like Major League Baseball is preparing to do the same in the service of some misguided quest for fan approval. Confession may be good for the soul and, in the theological realm, merit forgiveness. But sports can’t afford to be swayed by sentiment. Gambling sins must always mandate a “death penalty.” If its specter tarnishes one game, all games become subject to the most cynical appraisals. Then federal investigations, not league apologies, will be the rule whenever game officials screw up.
