It’s been hard to have an NFL football conversation over the past couple weeks without it devolving into a discussion about roughing the passer penalties. The referees have been brandishing their flags like a high school color guard, sending defensive players and fans alike into a collective adolescent meltdown.
A point of emphasis this season has been the refs enforcing the rule that a defensive player cannot fall on top of the quarterback with the force of all or most of their weight. This is not a new rule. It was instituted in 1995, but has only become an issue over the past couple seasons. The injury last year to Aaron Rodgers brought it more to light and the league seems to want to avoid any similar injuries in the future, especially when it comes to its marquee players and its most visible position.
But the rate at which it’s being enforced seems ridiculous from anyone with even a rudimentary understanding of both football and physics. I claim to only have a rudimentary — at most — understanding of both.
When a defensive player has a stationary quarterback in their sights, their first instinct is to go after the ball. Their second instinct is to get the quarterback to the ground. Sometimes both of these things are possible, sometimes only one. But the thought process has not historically included the idea of getting the quarterback to the ground, but consciously adjusting one’s body weight so it does not land with full force on top of said quarterback.
Part of the game, right or wrong, has always included the idea of forcing an opponent to play through pain, to play through fatigue, through discomfort. Nobody is out to injure anyone or do permanent damage, outside of maybe Albert Haynesworth. But you don’t want an opposing player to ever feel comfortable playing against you.
What makes things more complicated is that quarterbacks are stronger and more mobile than ever. Rodgers is phenomenal when he’s pressured and gets outside the pocket. Ben Roethlisberger sheds defenders who are grabbing all of his limbs simultaneously. Russell Wilson dissects oncoming rushers like a surgeon and takes off like a running back.
Making sure a quarterback actually goes to the ground is more difficult than ever and taking some of the learned technique away from defensive players only increases that growing difficulty.
Now, there’s a difference between these weight of their body penalties and shots to the head. At first I thought this may be a case of fans wanting to have their cake and eat it too — a phrase I’ve still never fully comprehended but I’m going with it, regardless.
I’ve been one of many to berate the league for how it treats former players, how it has knowingly held back information when it comes to the effects of head and neck injuries, how players receive far less guaranteed money than they deserve.
There is a serious issue when it comes to how these men change mentally after their careers are over and how consistent shots to the head completely ruin their lives. There is a serious issue when Junior Seau can no longer stand to be alive and shoots himself in the chest, ensuring that his brain is intact to be studied once he’s gone.
This doesn’t have to do with that. Helmet shots need to be limited as much as possible. If that means some borderline penalties are called when it’s a shot to the shoulder or neck area, so be it. We’re going to have to live with that.
But the Clay Matthews penalties the past two weeks, the Tyrone Crawford penalty on Sunday, a few of the numerous flags in the Steelers-Buccaneers game on Monday were not that. They were penalizing players for just trying to make sure the quarterback went to the ground. They can’t be hit low or high and there are very legitimate reasons for that, but if the league wants to show us all how to adjust one’s body weight in mid-tackle when trying to bring a 250-pound man in pads to the ground, I’d be very interested in their demonstration.
I’m sure defensive players would too.
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David Simon can be reached at dsimon@thegardenisland.com.
