No More Nice Guy About Instant Replay

He is only one voice in a choir of 28, but Ralph Wilson, proprietor of the Buffalo Bills, predicts we are looking at the last pro football tournament enriched by instant replay as an arm of officiating.

Whether it continues as an arm of television is television’s business.

“But my guess,” Wilson says, “is that we are close to the end of that famous announcement from the field, ‘After further review, the play stands.’ We had instant replay licked at the owners’ meeting last year. All we needed were eight votes to kill it. We had nine, including mine. I was most outspoken of all.”

Why did they back down?

“We did it out of respect to Pete (Rozelle),” the Buffalo owner answers. “He announced his retirement. He had been backing instant replay as a favor to his friend, Tex Schramm, the biggest booster of the camera in the league. The rebels got sentimental. We changed our votes.”

“But there is no more Nice Guy?” Wilson is asked.

“I think it’s dead, for at least four reasons. First, the delays it causes are ridiculous. Second, officials are so afraid of being shown up, they are losing confidence in their judgments. Third, instant replay isn’t pleasing fans. It mostly infuriates them when calls stand that they feel should be overturned. And fourth, the process is very costly; we are paying for unnecessary grief.”

The way instant replay has been deployed since its inception in 1986 as ref’s little helper, it deals with what is described as “plays of possession and touching.”

Such plays involve fumbles, receptions, interceptions and muffs, the last connected with the fielding of punts.

Also included are plays governed by sidelines, goal lines, end lines and the line of scrimmage.

These have been the areas calling for review of judgments made on the field. And if camera exposure hasn’t been conclusive, rulings made by officials at the spot have been sustained.

And what happens if instant replay detects extraneous fouls, such as Chris Doleman of Minnesota delivering a spectacular kick to the pelvic region of San Francisco’s Bubba Paris last weekend?

What happens is nothing, because kicks to the pelvic region are beyond the jurisdiction of instant replay.

It is a non sequitur, but Bubba didn’t even flinch from the assault, proving to America this is no warrior with a glass groin.

Nor can instant replay be used to monitor clipping, holding, mask-grabbing, or, above all, interference.

The playoff game last Sunday between the Rams and the New York Giants possibly was decided by a debatable interference call in overtime. Turning to the booth, the republic asks anxiously: “Was a crime committed? The Super Bowl may be riding here.”

“Sorry,” it is told. “We deal only with traffic, not homicide.”

Because instant replay involves such a fragment of what goes on in a game, Wilson doesn’t feel it is worth the trouble, assuring us he will vote against it and hinting we can blow it a farewell kiss.

A marvel of technology at the time, instant replay was introduced in 1963 to offer enlightenment to the peasantry watching at home. It was barred from stadium monitors on the ground it was dangerous. Looking at questionable calls, home crowds, it was feared, would storm the field.

It later would transpire that Fred Dryer, then defensive end for the Rams, would make an eloquent case against instant replay in any form.

“Throw it the hell out,” Dryer pleaded. “It is the curse of the human race. It embarrasses officials. It embarrasses players. And it starts beefs.”

Dryer opened his heart.

“On Mondays,” he recalled, “a lot of guys on the Rams used to go to a beer and pizza joint where the owner would show our game taped from television the day before. When instant replay came on and we would see bad calls, our players would rise from their chairs and start yelling.

“I’d say, ‘Calm down. The game is over.’ And someone would holler at me, ‘How can you stay calm, dummy? Did you see what they did to us on that play?’ ”

Dryer concluded, “Whereas we used to get heartburn from the pizza on Monday, we wound up getting it from instant replay.”

Dryer believed then, as some players believe now, that instant replay is an encroachment on their privacy.

“Is instant replay used in places where they kill turkeys?” Dryer asked. “Well, a football field is a nasty place, too. It is also the player’s place of business, and no one has the right to move in with a camera and show his activities in slow motion.”

Of course, Dryer went on to riches in detective work and, watching “Hunter” on TV, you will note, significantly, the absence of instant replay from any of his functions.