Ruled Out: The Death of Discretion in Sports

The sporting world is now ruled by rules.

What you see might deceive you, and what you might perceive as something might not be what you think—that is, if the minutiae of the rulebook says otherwise. This airtight adherence of the rules pervades all sports today ranging from officiating in football and basketball, and even in the administration of anti-doping punishment.

The most egregious offender and worshipper of all rules is probably the NFL. It has a long history of this too—can you say, tuck rule? Though, I love the championship that it spawned, the eyeball test unquestionably dictated that Tom Brady's forward tuck was indeed a fumble.

Anyone who has witnessed or played the game can watch that play a million times and believe it was a fumble, even as they knew the outcome of the rule. Common sense said it was not an attempted pass.

Unless Brady was soft-tossing footballs to a spot two feet in front of him, it was unmistakably not a pass. But the rulebook says otherwise. It states—no matter how illogical—that an arm going forward means a pass.

Chalk one up for rules.

Since that moment about nine years ago, the pandering to discretion-free rules in the league has only accelerated.

Let's stick with Tom Brady. How about the blows to the head and hit below-the-knees penalties that he vouches for and, in part, inspired?

Under the new rules, this type of discussion is eliminated....to a T
Christian Petersen/Getty Images On the surface, both of these rules are justified as they protect the league's most valuable assets who are often targeted and vulnerable. Applied with discretion, these rules would cause minimal uproar from defensive players and fans. Followed exactly, while subtracting common sense, they produce penalties that border on ridiculous.

An intentional bludgeon to the head or Bernard-Pollardesque dive at the knees is treated exactly the same as an incidental love-tap to the head or brush-by on the ankles after a futile pass rush. And why is that? Because the rules say so, and the NFL dutifully has removed ambiguity to the point of absurdity.

The next time you see a defensive lineman flagged 15 yards for a benign grazing of a QB—even as he does his best to hop out of the way—you can blame the penalty on a strict interpretation gone miles off-field. This type of mindless rule-adherence sadly is not restricted to penalties either.

Witness the "go-to-the-ground and maintain control in the whole process" catch rule. This rule treated the long-suffering Detroit Lions fans to yet another heartbreak when Calvin Johnson caught a winning touchdown, and in celebratory fashion flipped the ball as he rolled back to his feet.

Again, the eyeball test here leaves no doubt—it was 100 percent a catch. Everyone knows it was.

Johnson had possession, he controlled the ball the whole way, he even controlled it so well he could stylishly flip it as he arose. However, according to a close reading of the rules, it technically was not a catch because he dropped the ball as he got up.

Uh-Oh. The blind followers of this rule-obsessed league, the referees, ignored all instinct, reason, and common sense, predictably following the rules.

It might seem like I'm piling on the NFL, but the NBA might be just as bad. I'm all for consistency in refereeing, but some of the new rules spawned by the NBA form a brand of basketball that barely resembles the game one would see in a non NBA-officiated jurisdiction.

Think of the wild arm-flailing to draw fouls, think of seven foot, 300 pound men hitting the floor at the hands of six foot guards.

When a player puts his arms out in a way that could theoretically impede an offensive player's shot, even if he has no intention of shooting because of his position and the context of the game, it is now second nature for the offensive player to go up for the shot and throw up an arm-flailing knuckleball with no intention of making it.

This is, of course, because such gesticulation will invariably draw a foul. No matter if the play is 30 feet from the hoop with 22 seconds on the shot clock. The rule, or the NBA's long standing application of said rule says: Contact in the shooting motion, even if the offensive player initiates it with no prayer of actually scoring, is a foul. Two shots at the aptly named charity stripe. Such a call is a win for the offensive player, but its a loss for everyone else.

Next, you have seven-foot centers taking charges from point guards, doing their best Vlade Divac impressions while crashing to the floor. I'll be clear. I don't blame the centers for this. If the center plays straight up he is victim to a rules structure that will reward a guard for attacking his chest, flailing his arms to mimic a foul, and initiating all kinds of contact that the referee will dutifully call. Thus, the center's remedy is to curl up and collapse in an odd spectacle that doesn't resemble anything that should occur on a basketball court.

Try this move in a pickup game sometime against the shrimp of your group. At best, you'll be humiliated by everyone involved. At worst, you'll come back with a black eye. Sadly, this is how the rulebook operates and it is how plays will be called for better or for worse. Gone are the days when an official could interpret any of these incidents independently, attempting to use his discretion and judgment to interpret the rules correctly.

The worst might be yet to come in this all-out-embrace of conventions set by the NBA leadership.

I fear the new technical foul rules could make a disappointed yell after a tough foul or a mere shrug, eye-roll, or frown grounds for a technical. Let's be clear, no one likes baiting refs or showing them up. We had all grown weary of Rasheed Wallace's "Intergalactic conspiracy" routine. That being said, "looking upset", though technically grounds for a 'T', should be treated with discretion, as opposed to being robotically programmed to execute of the exact wording of the rules. There have already been incidents in the preseason where context and common sense were ignored and blind obedience triumphed.

All NBA fans lose when rules are applied so literally. The whole point of them is lost. Let's hope the NBA doesn't follow the NFL's example and distributes whistles according to the spirit of the rules.

The last incident that revealed the complete obsession of authority with the absolute primacy of rules was Lashawn Merritt's recent 21 month suspension for the use of DHEA. The basic fact of this story is that Merritt, an Olympic gold medalist at 400 meters, tested positive three times for the illegally-banned substance, claiming that he did so unintentionally because of his use of Extenze, a male enhancement drug.

In his defense, Merritt tapped a local 7-11 purveyor who backed up that he frequently bought condoms and Extenze from her in that time-span. You can be as dubious on that defense as you like, but why would the 7-11 clerk remember him?

Why didn't he look at the ingredients? Extenze as an excuse? I mean, really? All of that doubt is not important, though, because here's the kicker: the committee sentencing Merritt, bought his story!

They believed Merritt, accepted his remorse, and concluded that he was not trying to illegally enhance his performance (well, at least not on the track). Yet, in their unwavering commitment to the rules they banned him 21 months anyway.

Never mind that DHEA's performance enhancing abilities are dubious at best. Never mind that there are far more effective undetectable drugs that any cheating track star could have access to, or would prefer to an over-the-counter substance like DHEA.

Merritt broke the rules by what they interpreted to be an honest mistake, yet they still exerted their no-tolerance and no-discretion agenda. I'm not judging whether that is the right thing or the wrong thing, but the embrace of rules without exceptions and moments for reflection and reasoning is particularly striking in Merritt's stiff sentence.

The extent to which the powers-that-be in sports love and enforce their rigid rules is becoming ridiculous.

There are, of course, more examples in other sports and within each of the sports I discussed.

Still, the most compelling argument for the primacy of rules occurs in the aftermath of any rules-based controversy. Fans and Leagues ask: What should we do about flopping? What should we do about Calvin Johnson faux no-catch?

Let's change the rules.