The Perversion of Football

The word “football” invokes many powerful images.  Think back to watching NFL films, the voice of John Facenda narrating the action—breathing life into the games of old.  The “voice of god” set to images of big burly men with dirt stained, tattered uniforms crashing into each other as the diminutive backs would cut in and out seeking breathing room, while the trenches filled up with blood and sweat.  On numerous occasions Facenda would make references and allusions to the gladiators of ancient Rome.  These images helped foster an appreciation for the game of football and engendered an affinity for the sport in my life that has not wavered, but recently it felt something had changed.

Recently, a new trend has set upon the football world—the spread offense.  This disease first took hold on the high school and collegiate levels, as a means for less athletic teams to compete with teams with more speed, size and strength. Now even athletic teams like Michigan and Florida have abandoned their proud football past and caved into the latest fad.

The spread offense annoys me. In effect, it transforms the game into a glorified version of seven-on-seven, awarding finesse over athleticism.

The spread brand of football is void of physicality.  In essence, the team that runs the spread says via their actions that they don’t have the athletes to match-up man-to-man so they must resort to “spreading” men out in order to find a hole.  Think back to the “great teams” of yesteryear.  They lined up with the mentality “you know what we are going to do, now try and stop us.”

Isn’t that what makes football great?  The battle in the trenches, running backs fighting for yardage, and quick, aggressive defenses swarming to the ball.

This doesn’t even take into account the limitations the spread place on your play calling ability.  The spread works fine within the 20’s, but deep inside the red zone or deep inside your own territory, where a power running game is beneficial, the spread is actually a liability. Nothing irks me more than to see a team drive the ball to their opponent’s 3 yard line, only to line up in a shot gun formation. Some college quarterbacks play their entire career without ever taken a snap from under center and then wonder why NFL teams skip over them in spite of gaudy statistics.

A pure form of football features a sort of fluidity that is not found with the spread attack.  Players awkwardly stand in formation as the coach signals in the play.  The quarterback anxiously reads the defense trying to spot some weakness to exploit.  The ball is moved horizontally and instead of harmony, dissonance radiates.

Perhaps John Facenda is best remembered for his description of the 1967 “Ice Bowl” at the “frozen tundra of Lambeau Field,” which makes one wonder could a “spread attack” have accomplished the comeback Bart Starr engineered?  Even as a die-hard Cowboy’s fan born 11 years after it was played, I acknowledge that the “Ice Bowl” embodies everything that is great and pure about our game of football and sadly I fear that game has been taken over by the disease we now know as the “spread offense”, destroying all the images that made this game great.