Jack Wellborn

This week the NFL is considering changes to overtime. The current rules are roughly as follows (emphasis mine):

No more than one 10-minute period will follow a three-minute intermission. Each team must possess, or have the opportunity to possess, the ball. The exception: if the team that gets the ball first scores a touchdown on the opening possession.

Sudden death play — where the game ends on any score (safety, field goal or touchdown) — continues until a winner is determined.

In other words, regular season overtime ends when one of three things happen:

• The first possessing team scores a touchdown
• If the first possessing team does not score a touchdown, the next lead changing score by either team (sudden death)
• The 10 minute period expires, resulting in a tie

While this is an improvement over plain old sudden death, where the first team could win with just a field goal, the current rules are still subpar given an era where rules generally favor the offense and scoring touchdowns. I say this as a Patriots fan whose team greatly benefitted from the current system.

In my estimation, NFL overtime proposals are being measured against two general requirements:

• Fairness — Both teams should have a chance to win.
• Brevity — The overtime period needs to be constrained for both scheduling purposes and player safety, and especially during the regular season.

That said, I think there is an underlying requirement that is likely being overlooked by the league:

• Tenor — The outcome of overtime should reflect what happened in the game.

More than a sense of fairness, I would argue that fans don’t like the current overtime rules because they often result in outcomes that don’t accurately reflect what happened in games. Take for example the aforementioned Patriots victories. While there was certainly some grumbling about Super Bowl LI’s overtime, fans were less upset because the outcome matched the tenor of that game. My Patriots had all of the momentum after scoring 25 unanswered points going into overtime. Compare that to the 2018 AFC Championship, or this most recent 2022 Divisional game between Buffalo and Kansas City for that matter. Fans loathed these games’ outcomes, because they were shootouts where both teams were going blow-for-blow. The current overtime rules betrayed the nature of these shootouts because either team could score, but only the team who won the coin toss had the chance.

Two overtime proposals are being considered by the league this week, both of which are nicely summarized by Peter King:

One is simple; each team would get at least one possession in overtime, and if it’s tied after those two possessions, next score wins.

Two has a wrinkle; if Team A scores a touchdown and PAT on the first drive of overtime, Team B needs a touchdown and must attempt a two-point conversion after the TD. So game over after the second possession if both score TDs.

Peter believes the second proposal will be considered too gimmicky to garner support among owners, but thinks the first one has a shot.

After two debacle finishes in the last four seasons—Patrick Mahomes not touching it in OT of the 2018 AFC title game, Josh Allen not touching it in the division playoff game at KC in January—I’d be surprised if it doesn’t pass for at least the playoffs.

The first proposal would be better than the system we have today, but it still involves a sudden death that inevitably favors one team with an extra possession based on a coin toss. I think that’s a necessary limitation for the post season where a winner needs to be determined. For the regular season however, I have a suggestion similar to the second proposal, but without the gimmick: limit overtime to one possession by each team. Not only would doing so satisfy the brevity and fairness requirements, it would better reflect the tenor of a given matchup. We would see teams going for two in shootouts or settling for field goals in defensive battles.

Such an overtime system would result in more ties, but I think a real chance of a tie would also be more exciting. Second possession teams would have to decide whether to settle for a tie or go for a win. We would see coaches down by 3, faced with choosing between a long field goal or going for it on 4th down. Is a tie really all that unfair or disappointing given two equally matched teams? I don’t think so, and would further argue that the occasional tie would better reflect the tenor of a game than a team winning or losing based on a coin toss.

Note: I frequently have very vivid dreams. Some of these dreams play out more like movies in that I am more-or-less watching events rather than participating in them. I don’t typically write down my dreams, let alone publicly, but this one inexplicably starring The Flash seemed like it would make for a fun short story.

The Flash finds himself in a foreign place. His memory is hazy. As usual, he’s running, this time up the side of a sky scraper. When he get’s to the penthouse balcony, he see’s a familiar woman, but can’t quite place her face. All he knows is that he is here to bring her back. He can’t remember why and the woman clearly does not recognize him. She seems irritated and calls security. The Flash is forced to flee. He starts running back down the building, but something is wrong. He’s tired. He’s slowing down. The Flash falls.

He wakes up, not where he fell, but in an institution. Barry looks around. He’s not in a jail or hospital, as one might expect given recent events. It looks like a school, or maybe a college? He’s at a desk surrounded by other people his age. A woman from the front row is giving him a nasty look. Maybe he’s a student? That seems right, but something still feels off.

The professor comes in and starts the lesson. As the lecture proceeds, Barry is mesmerized by the fantastic animated illustrations that have come to life where the chalkboard would be. “That’s some impressive tech”, he thinks to himself. That’s when it hit him. Something is missing.

Barry excuses himself from class and is pleasantly surprised when no one stops him. He finds his way to the library, where he sees a large computer-like machine. The machine, it seems, is able to show news articles from various eras. As Barry navigates, he learns that personal computers were banned in the 70s. Shouldn’t he have known that already?

While researching, a man gestures to get Barry’s attention. Barry follows this man out of the library and into what seems to be an emergency staircase. The man is hurried to the point where Barry is struggling to keep up. The man disappears through the first floor exit. When Barry comes out, the man is nowhere to be seen. Instead, it’s the woman from class. Instead of a nasty look, she is smirking.

Everything goes black.

Barry wakes up. He’s in class again, but this time it’s more of a lab. A different professor is talking to a clearly upset jock-ish looking student. “Well he’s already hit 10,000,” he overhears the professor say. Barry excuses himself, but this time is met with resistance. Both the professor and students all stare at him. They expect him to stay, but Barry is certain he needs to run. Everyone seems to follow him in pursuit as Barry resourcefully parkours his way through the building in search of an exit. He sees the man from the library earlier and follows him. Barry doesn’t know why, but he trusts this man. The man leads him to an exit and tells Barry to keep running.