The Baldest Truth

The Bald Truth

Face it, the New England Patriots deserved to lose to the Denver Broncos. I mean, tails? Come on! Anybody with an ounce of intelligence, talent, guts and toughness (not to mention extra-sensory perception) knew the pre-overtime coin flip would come up heads.

Tails? As soon as Vince Wilfork said, "Tails," it was over.

What a league. The NFL measures first downs by fractions of an inch. A play is viewed and reviewed 100 times in super-slo-mo to make sure the officials got the call right. Quarterbacks get their marching orders via speakers in their helmets. Aerial shots of plays are available within nanoseconds so dozens of assistant coaches can break down plays on the sidelines.

All of this technology helps make it more likely that the "right" team will win on any given Sunday.

And yet the Patriots lost in Denver because Wilfork said "tails" instead of "heads." The Broncos got the kickoff, advanced into New England territory and kicked a field goal. Tom Brady might as well have gone home early to Gisele; at least then he would have had a chance to score.

OK, technically, the coin flip didn't "cost" the Patriots the game. There was no rule saying the New England defense had to let Kyle Orton march his charges down the field in OT as if the Broncos were playing 11-on-7.

But really, in 2009, isn't there a better way?

The answer, of course, is yes. At college stadiums every Saturday, games tied after regulation eventually end in exciting - and equitable - fashion.

Why the NFL refuses to run its overtimes the same way, giving each team at least one possession at the opponent's 25-yard line, I only can attribute to stubbornness.

The Balder Truth

The league actually could improve upon the NCAA rule by making each OT possession start at the 50. That way, a team wouldn't be in field-goal range right out of the box. An offense would have to get at least one first down to earn a shot at points.

Given what's on the line - victories, defeats, playoff berths, jobs and a few billion friendly wagers - I'll take a fair rule vs. dumb luck every time.

THE BALDEST TRUTH

While the NFL's overtime solution should be a no-brainer, MLB's umpiring conundrum is much more vexing.

Already this postseason, there have been so many blown calls - most of them in crucial situations - that Bud Selig is even more red-faced than usual.

How embarrassing was that Chase Utley fiasco in the ninth inning of Sunday's Phillies-Rockies game? The home-plate umpire (and his five colleagues) didn't see that Utley fouled the baseball off of his leg, turning what should have been a foul ball into a slow roller. Then, Utley got away with running well inside the baseline. Then, the throw to first beat Utley but the ump there blew the call, too, resulting in an infield hit that sparked Philly's winning rally in the series' pivotal game.

Kind of a Buy-One-Get-Two-Free Sale on umpiring incompetence.

Really, though, what are Selig and his minions supposed to do? More replay reviews? Postseason games already take forever. Even managers burned by lousy calls have said interrupting play to review every borderline call would ruin a pitcher's rhythm and upset a game's flow.

Selig always could double the size of the postseason crews from six to an even dozen. That's one umpire for each fielder, one for the batter, one for the on-deck hitter and one to make sure that neither Jeffrey Maier nor Steve Bartman are in the ballpark.

You can never have enough umpires, I always say.

Or here's an idea the Commish is sure to like: Any controversial call involving an All-Star Game participant would favor that player; if the play involves two or more All-Stars, the call would favor the player who performed best in the Midsummer Classic.

Can't you just hear Fox's slogan now? "More than ever, this time it really, really, REALLY counts."

Read Mike Nadel's musings daily at TheBaldestTruth.com.