Heresy (Part 2 of 3)

This the second of a three-part series from guest contributor Pat Downes on the superiority of college football to pro football. To read the first part, “History,” click here.

Variety

If you watched the Super Bowl on Sunday, you should be grateful for the innovators who decided that different teams should wear different color uniforms. Otherwise, even if you were paying attention, it would have been hard to tell the teams apart. On offense, both the Packers and Steelers run a modified West Coast offense. On defense, both run a 3-4.

And it isn't just the Packers and Steelers. As Chris Brown of Smart Football points out, every team in the NFL runs just about the same offense.

Each team bases its offense on the same five running plays, and a horizontal, timing-based passing game. Defensively, about half the teams run a 3-4, and the other half run a more “traditional” 4-3. The trend is clearly in favor of the 3-4, which, in a few years may become as ubiquitous on the defensive side as Bill Walsh’s Stanford/San Francisco offense.

With college football, on the other hand, especially on the offensive side, pleasure is none, if not diversified. On any given Saturday, you can turn on your TV and witness:

*A traditional power running offense, with tight splits on the line, beefy linemen in three-point stances, fullbacks, and multiple tight ends, forcing the ball down the defense’s collective throat (with the occasional vertical, field-stretching play action bomb);

* The aforementioned West Coast (a.k.a. pro-style) offense, with heavy doses of zone blocking, a zone-read running game, and a short, horizontal, exquisitely timed passing game;

* The now passé “run and shoot,” including the “fun 'n' gun” pass-fest that Spurrier ran at Florida;

* Georgia Tech and the service academies employing the all-running-all-the-time triple-option;

* The spread (run-heavy variety), as pioneered by recently departed coaching heavyweights Urban Meyer and Rich Rodriquez, with the quarterback in the shotgun, the linemen split wide, and up on two feet, and various option and West Coast elements thrown in;

* The spread (pass-heavy variety), as engineered by coaches like Mike Leach and his disciples;

* Various adaptations of the spread, including: Nevada’s “pistol” offense, with the quarterback in a “semi” shotgun, and the running back directly behind the quarterback (which improves the rushing opportunities offered by a traditional shotgun and an offset running back); the old single-wing throwback known as the Wildcat (lately adopted by some forward-thinking NFL offensive coordinators); and Oregon’s “blur” offense, which adds a no-huddle, fast-paced, defense-exhausting element to the spread; and, finally,

* Various offenses incorporating elements of two or more of these systems.

College football has long been an incubator for innovation. Some schools lack financial resources. Some have institutional or geographical limitations. Every school has to compete with 119 other Division 1-A programs. As a result, not every team can land the 6’7” 310 -pound offensive linemen with freakish athletic ability, or the skill position players who can run the 40-yard dash in less than 4.5 seconds. If you want to move the ball down the field at these schools, you have to find a way to do it with the players you have. For decades, college coaches have developed the systems described above (and a bunch more besides), to do just that.

In the NFL, on the other hand, there are 32 teams that share television revenue, and thus have roughly equal resources, equal access to a relatively deep talent pool, and a uniform salary cap. Unless your team is ineptly managed (i.e., run by Daniel Snyder or Al Davis), you are going to fill your roster with players at every position who have all, or nearly all, of the attributes that you're looking for. You’re going to find a left tackle with near-ideal height and weight, with long arms, and freakish agility. If you run a 3-4 defense, you’re going to find a 340-pound nose tackle who can consume two blockers. You’re going to find a running back who can pick up the blitz, catch the ball as an outlet receiver, take a handoff, pick the right hole, and hit it hard.

Some players are better than others, sure, but in relative terms, at most positions, there really isn't that much daylight between the best starter in the league, and the worst starter. Every team, more or less, has the tools they need to run the offense they want, and there is no incentive to innovate as there is in college.

In some ways, the NFL is the sporting equivalent of the string of fast food joints off the freeway exit, or the suburban strip mall. It’s the same damn thing all over America. The fan in San Diego is consuming the same product as the fan in Indianapolis and the fan in Atlanta. It’s a high-quality product, to be sure (more Ruth’s Chris than McDonald’s), but there’s no regional differentiation; nothing unique, nothing genuine.

College football is the cultural kin of the mom and pop store that’s been run by the same family for a century. It’s the genuine article, the tangible, non-Disneyfied, remnant of real America. And like the mom and pop stores, we’d be better off as a country if we valued it more.

Stay tuned next week for “Passion,” the third and final installment of “Heresy.”