Commentary : It’s Time to Take a Long, Last Look at NFL’s Instant Replay

The newspaper business, which puts food on the table where my wife and kids sit, is very dear to me. But it provides a classic example of how technological achievements can yield bittersweet results.

Thanks to advances in communication and machinery, newspaper copy is now written, edited and printed in one-tenth the time it took when I started as an ink-stained wretch. Theoretically, each high-tech innovation allows reporters more time to produce their stories. But every year we have earlier deadlines. The technology works. The application doesn’t.

Which leads me to a discussion of the instant replay rule in the NFL.

It’s not working.

You don’t need a CBS poll to tell you that. All you need is a watch.

Between TV timeouts and the new replay rule, the average NFL game now lasts about six hours. You can fly coast to coast in less time than it takes for San Diego to play Miami. I don’t want to say the games are taking forever, but bars that show doubleheaders are now offering Pullman sleepers to regular customers. What’s the NFL coming to? It’s not enough for a fan to bring three six-packs to a game, now he has to bring pajamas and a razor, as well.

There is nothing instant about this replay.

The replay official in the booth watches the game on TV--same as you and me. If he sees something that needs a second (or a third, fourth or fifth) look, he alerts the officiating crew on the field by buzzing the umpire through a beeper that is attached to the umpire’s belt. Then, the on-field officials gather round and wait until the replay official makes up his mind whether, for example, Drew Hill was in bounds when he caught that touchdown pass.

The replay official is instructed to take his time so he can be sure of the call. He can see as many replays as he has, from as many different angles as he has for as many times as he wants. (Why Art McNally? Why not Steven Spielberg?)

Meanwhile, back on the field, the game officials are standing around like a herd of milk cows. What are they supposed to do while they wait, sing a cappella and hope for a shot on “Star Search”? In show business, the art of standing around and entertaining the audience while waiting for the equipment to work is called “vamping.” The NFL has done so much vamping this season it ought to recruit its officials from Transylvania.

Before we go any further with this discussion, I’m sure you’ll all want to join me in wishing Mary Lou Retton the best of luck in her new career as a very short, very rich, battery operated, supercharged, teen-age Texas co-ed. I trust she’ll continue studying nutritional science now that she knows what the big boys eat.

The previous paragraph was me vamping while the official in the editor’s booth decided whether my verbs were crisp enough to continue with this column.

NFL statistics show that in 30 of the 56 games this season “there was some kind of communication between officials on the field and in the replay booth.” (That 30 describes raw games, not the number of times each game may have been interrupted.) Nine calls have been changed. We could have lived without them.

I’m against the replay option.

Not because of the “human element.” Let’s not get carried away with the romance of fallibility. How many of you wrote paeans to Don Denkinger?

Of course I think right calls are better than wrong calls. But how much of a sport can you hand over to TV? As it is, the NFL is a wholly owned subsidiary of the networks. The USFL based its suit on its need to be on TV to succeed as a business. It was right. Now it’s gone. So who’s kidding whom?

As we all know from so many years of watching these things, the replays are rarely indisputable. Different camera angles produce different interpretations by different people--there’s your human element. (That’s why pass interference is specifically excluded from the package; too subjective. And anyway, two days later someone would come up with yet another angle and muddy the water again.)

Wouldn’t you suspect the official in the booth might hesitate to overrule his fraternity buddy officials on the field? Nine calls have been changed. Probably at least as many blown calls have stood. So what is accomplished mainly? Delay of game. Zebras, drop your flags! (And somebody quick, get me a beer.)

Okay, if you must have the replay rule, a few suggestions:

More angles. Call Al Davis. He always has an angle.

“Egg Rule.” No decision shall take longer than it takes to fry an egg. From now on, a certified chef will be assigned to the booth with the replay official. As soon as the umpire is buzzed, the chef begins frying. We’ll soon know which came first, de-cision or de-egg.

AWACS. Peter Ueberroth has suggested using AWACS to police our borders against drug trafficking. Maybe some Super Bowl tickets would convince the drug dealers to refrain from Sunday traffic, and the NFL can use AWACS for state of the art replays.

Supreme Court. There should be a three-judge panel making final decisions on replays: Judge Wapner, Judge Crater and Judge Reinhold.

Here’s looking at you, kid. Again and again.